Charlie and Lauren's Romanian summer
by moonfairy13
Summary: Charlie Weasley was only looking for a beer. He found a muggle woman on a purple sofa with a large hat, a killer smile and a brain that turned him on more than he could have possibly imagined. This is the story of the summer romance they shared before they both went back to their own worlds. (Prequel to Fremione and the Weasleys).
1. The beginning

This is a prequel to Fremione and the Weasleys. In that story, Charlie told Hermione about a muggle woman he had once spent a summer with, and his search for her became a bigger part of Fremione and the Weasleys than I had imagined. Here's the story of how Charlie and Lauren met and spend a summer together in Romania.

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Charlie Weasley was tired. He had walked for miles tracking what he thought might be an errant teenage dragon halfway across the Carpathian mountains. That wasn't even his intended activity for the day; he was actually on his annual mission to check for as-yet unlogged dragon nests when the tracks had appeared out of the blue. And then to add insult to injury, the trail had just as suddenly gone cold. When he stopped to wipe his face and spotted the white half-wall that marked the edge of the muggle spa resort, he was simultaneously dismayed at how far he was from his starting point and buoyed by the thought that he could at least sit on his arse for a couple of hours and drink a beer. If he had his muggle wallet, he thought, hauling his charmed backpack off his shoulders to fish his hand in and check and then sending a prayer of gratitude to the gods when he discovered that he did.

He clocked the position of the sun, realising that the late hour and twenty minute walk to a muggle-free zone meant he would have to choose between having a beer immediately or delaying his gratification and erecting his tent while it was still daylight. The beer won. It wouldn't be the first time Charlie had magically put up a tent in the dark.

Checking to see that no-one was nearby, Charlie stepped off the path for a moment. He took his wand out of its holster and applied several charms, ensuring that he was clean, fresh and presentable enough to be allowed into the resort. The bartender was a friendly local who knew several of the dragon keepers by sight from their visits to the village and was happy to let them into the bar or restaurant when they came by as long as they met the dress code. Charlie transfigured his shorts and shirt into slightly smarter versions of the originals and sent a charm through his soft, red, medium-length hair which served as shampoo, conditioner and brush in one. With a practised movement, he re-tied the strip of leather that he used to hold his red hair in a ponytail.

He stood still for a moment, doing a mental appraisal of what was left and then casting a freezing spell on his dragon tattoos. Not that they could be seen while he was wearing his shirt; that was one reason that he had had them magically painted onto his body rather than his arms, but he had once needed to obliviate a muggle who had seen the moving creatures when he had lifted his arm and revealed the Chinese fireball spitting flames across the left side of his body. He didn't want to take any chances, especially as the resort was likely to be busy at this time of the year. Finally, he sent a cleaning charm over his booted feet before casting a disillusionment spell on his holstered wand and striding forward, his energy slightly renewed at the thought of having a drink.

It took him less than five minutes to reach the gate that he knew would take him onto the bar's terrace, where the tourists tended to gather in the early evening to sit on the soft seats while the sun set and the soft illumination of the garden lights created an entirely different kind of atmosphere. Nodding to the bartender, Charlie ordered himself a beer and handed over a banknote with a request to set up a tab. As he was here, he might as well get some food in a bit as well; it would be nice to have a meal that someone else had cooked instead of the sausage sandwiches that ended up being his staple diet when he was camping.

He took a long pull of his drink and then, beer in hand, Charlie strolled back towards the terrace, noting that it looked fairly busy. All of the sofas and armchairs were full and he was going to have to sit on the white wall if he wanted to enjoy the sunset, but he didn't mind that. He headed for the path that would take him towards the more secluded edge of the seating area but stopped in his tracks just a few feet from his final destination when he saw a disaster about to happen. A family of small lizards were trying to cross the path of an American couple who were headed indoors, talking animatedly and completely unaware that their feet were putting the tiny creatures in peril. Charlie called out and strode forward, bending down to help the little reptiles reach their destination and blocking the tourists' way until he had ensured that the entire family was safe. Nodding to the couple in thanks for having stopped, he made it to the wall, leaned on it as he appraised the mountains and drank another mouthful of his beer.

"That was very kind of you." He turned around to see a small, plump woman in a red sundress and a straw hat that was almost bigger than she was. She was sitting on one of the few sofas that lined the edge of the terrace and faced the mountains rather than another sofa. It was a romantic seat made for two, but she was alone. Waiting for her husband to return with another drink, he supposed, although she had nearly a full glass of wine on the table.

"They were stressed," he shrugged. "There have only been people here for a few years; they don't know to be scared until it's too late, and then they don't know what to do."

The woman nodded slowly. "I see," she said. "Are you staying here?" She didn't want to be rude, but he didn't exactly look like a typical resort guest, and she was slightly intrigued by this man who had appeared almost out of the blue.

"No," he replied. "I work locally. With animals," he smiled, a bit shyly, realising that that might serve to explain his behaviour which might, he supposed, seem a bit odd.

The woman didn't seem daunted by it though. She looked at the wall he was leaning against and then patted the other side of the purple sofa that she sat on. "You're welcome to sit, if you like. There aren't many spare seats at this time of the evening, I know. I was lucky to get this one," she smiled, "although it helped that I parked myself here with my reading before the rush began." When she said 'reading', she nodded towards a small grey thing that she held in her hands.

"What are you reading?" Charlie asked, picking up his beer and walking towards the sofa.

"Oh," she laughed, "what aren't I reading, more like! I've got about seventeen books on the go in there, work and pleasure both. I'm having a break for a few weeks and it's a good chance to catch up."

"You're here alone then?" Charlie asked. "No husband or boyfriend going to come over and be cross if I'm sat here with you while he's in the sauna?"

"Definitely not," she laughed, deciding that the sun was low enough for her to take her hat off. Placing it on the table, she shook her head to release her hair. "I don't know what I'd do with one of those. No, it's just me and the mountains and my books." She picked up the grey thing from her lap and waved it a bit to emphasise her words before placing it on the low table that sat in front of the sofa. "And the odd glass of wine, just to cap it all off. Lauren Bennett," she said, holding her right hand out. "Lecturer and book lover."

"Charlie Weasley." Charlie clasped her hand, which felt tiny in his. She had a confident handshake though, which he admired. "Rescuer of lizards and animal lover." Lauren picked up her wine glass with her other hand and held it up in a toast. Charlie nodded his head and clinked his beer softly with her glass.

"Cheers," they said at the same time, and then, "it's nice to meet you!" They both laughed, ice broken in their mutual delight at being so far from home and yet connected by their English cultural norms.


	2. An innocent invitation

"Feel free to not chat, by the way, if you were looking for a quiet drink," Lauren said. "I just didn't want you to have to stand while there was a seat free … you looked a bit tired, if you don't mind me saying." She was running her fingers through her hair, having freed it from her enormous hat. Her hair suited her, Charlie thought. It was a short blonde bob with curls that looked friendly but rather untameable. As if they had a mind of their own and didn't hesitate to speak it. That was his first impression of Lauren too and, from her clothing and demeanour, she didn't seem like the kind of woman who would be bothered about whether her hair was tame or not.

"I am a bit tired, and I don't mind you saying at all," he said. "Long day … lots of walking. But," he shrugged, "I've been out on my own for three days now, so it's nice to have a conversation."

"Yeah, I guess we're not very close to civilisation here," Lauren said, looking over the wall at the tree-covered mountains beyond the resort. She knew there was a village about fifteen minutes drive away, because the concierge had told her about the transport that would take her there if she wanted to go, and she had seen evidence of a few dwellings on her way up here, but there was no sign of any of this from the resort itself. "Which is why I picked it, to be honest."

"I can understand that," Charlie smiled. "Though I have plenty of company at our main base; I'm just up here for a few days…" He trailed off and thought quickly, not able to tell the truth but not wanting to lie to this woman who seemed very straightforward, not to mention cute and bubbly. "I'm doing a bit of a reccy to see what's what. One of us wanders around with a tent for a few days each summer, just to get a sense of what's happening up here, you know?"

"With the local wildlife?"

"Exactly." There. That wasn't a lie. Dragons were wildlife. Maybe a bit wilder than this pretty muggle woman was thinking, but he hadn't told a lie. Charlie wasn't sure why, but even after less than five minutes he was intrigued by Lauren Bennett. He noted again that she dressed differently from the other women at the resort; her cotton dress, although colourful, was practical and comfortable rather than trendy and she wore sandals on her bare feet rather than the silly, strappy heels that many of the other female guests were sporting. She didn't have any make-up on either and, although she wore several strings of beads and coloured threads around her neck and wrists, they were bright and fun rather than expensive and showy. Charlie quickly looked out at the view, not wanting her to think that he was appraising her. "I love being in the mountains; I volunteer for it every year. Everyone just accepts that it's my gig now, you know."

"I don't blame you; it is beautiful here," she agreed. "I wondered if it would live up to the brochure, but it absolutely has. And the spa is divine, not to mention that we all have a hot tub on our balcony … have you stayed here?"

Charlie shook his head. "I've only ever got as far as the bar … which sounds terrible, doesn't it?! Maybe one day…"

"Dr Lauren?" They both turned to see the barman standing alongside Lauren, clearly wanting to ensure that she wasn't being bothered by the still slightly unkempt dragon keeper. Charlie had done his best with the cleaning and tidying spells, but it was difficult to completely hide the fact that he hadn't seen civilisation or a proper shower for three days.

"Salut Andrei," she said with a smile. Charlie was impressed. Most of the tourists didn't bother with even the simplest of Romanian phrases, instead expecting the locals to speak their language. "Are you having a good evening?" she asked him. Clearly she didn't have that much Romanian.

Andrei gave a small bow. "I am, Dr Lauren. I just want to make sure you are well. Do you need anything? Can I escort you inside?"

Lauren was well aware of his intention and while she was grateful that he was looking out for her as a single woman, she was confident in her ability to handle herself and didn't want him worrying around her all evening. "Andrei, I am well. This is Charlie, my friend from England, and we are just catching up."

Andrei gave another bow and smiled at Charlie. "My apology for disturbing your conversation. If you would like to order more drinks or some food, let me know. We have tables available in the restaurant, of course, or I can bring the bar menu out if you would like to enjoy the sunset and eat out here."

Charlie was slightly surprised at Lauren's response. Without telling an actual lie, she had managed to imply that this stranger was an old friend. It reminded Charlie of the kind of cleverness sported by his twin brothers, who were also good with words in that way. He was also pleased that Andrei wasn't going to be scrutinising him all evening and smiled at the barman. "I'd love to see a bar menu, when you have time. Mersi Andrei."

The barman smiled, said that he would be back shortly and headed off, picking up some empty glasses on the way.

"Thanks," said Charlie. "That'll make my life easier."

"Not a problem," Lauren replied. "Though you're going to have to tell me more about you now," she teased, "so I can keep up the pretence!"

"Alright then," he chuckled. "What would you like to know?"

Lauren wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to start with anything too clichéd. Um … let's try … oh, I know … favourite item of clothing?"

"My boots," he said immediately, tipping one foot so she could see what looked like a pair of old brown leather walking boots. They were actually made of dragon hide, but charmed so that muggles wouldn't see that. Too late, Charlie realised that she would have no idea that she was looking at state-of-the-art footwear, but she smiled anyway.

"I get that," she said. "I have a pair of DMs at home that I've had since university. I'm very attached to them."

Charlie had no idea what DMs were, but Lauren didn't seem to notice the flash of confusion cross her face, so he quickly asked her the same question. "What about you, then?"

"Currently it would have to be my hat," she waved her hand in the direction of the table, "but I'm fickle with my affections when it comes to outfits and accessories. I'm not at all interested in what's currently in fashion, but I love what I love." She gave Charlie a smile and took another sip of her wine. "If you'd asked me last week I would have said my new blue sundress. I wore it on the plane out here." She leaned a bit closer. "Not a good plan though; it wasn't very practical for the airport."

Charlie had never been to an airport, though he did at least know what one of those was. Although wizards and witches didn't have the need to fly themselves, planes often flew over Diagon Alley on their way into Heathrow, so even quite tiny magical people knew about them.

"Menus," Andrei said, re-appearing in front of their sofa with another small bow of his head. He placed two small folders on the table before leaving again before they could even thank him.

Charlie leaned forward to pick one up. "Do you mind if I order something out here? I'm really hungry … long walk," he explained.

"Not at all," Lauren said. "Though I feel a bit conscious that I've made you feel you have to sit with me, and you really don't, if you'd rather be alone. I said you were my friend to stop Andrei fussing, not because I'm sad and needed company –"

"It's OK," Charlie's hand reached to touch her fingers in reassurance, and they both flinched slightly as they felt a shock of something which felt like static electricity to Lauren and like a child's uncontrolled magic to Charlie. Weird, Charlie thought. That hadn't happened when they shook hands.

"That'll be my hat," Lauren said, reaching for the other menu. "I could probably run a small generator off the static I create when I take it off. If my e-reader runs out of power, maybe I could hook it up and run it off that instead."

Charlie eyed Lauren's reading thing again. If there were seventeen books in there – or perhaps even more – then was it a magical device? And, if so, was Lauren a witch? Charlie racked his brains to think of an innocuous question he could ask her in order to find out. Then he hit upon it, and asked about her schooling. When she gave him a list of schools and universities, he knew that he had been wrong. He couldn't understand how it was possible for her books to be in there, but it clearly wasn't magical in origin.

For the first time in his life, Charlie wished he had paid more attention in muggle studies. He might have more of a clue what she was talking about. He liked this woman; she was funny, and clearly very bright. Which reminded him of something.

"Andrei called you doctor Lauren," he said.

Lauren nodded. "I have a PhD in cultural anthropology."

Charlie inwardly groaned, and it clearly showed on his face because Lauren immediately laughed. "You're not alone," she said. "Most people have no idea what that means, and we don't have to talk about it. But you did ask…"

"Oh no," he said, relieved. "I'd love to know. I'm just glad you don't think I'm an idiot for not knowing."

"No, Charlie," she said. "I don't think you're an idiot. I think you're a nice man who's kind to animals, but I also know you're tired and hungry, so why don't we order something to eat and I'll tell you after that?"

"That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all day! Right," he said with a wink, opening his menu and beginning to scan the options. "You've eaten here more recently than me … what's good?"

It took a few minutes of reading and conversation before they both decided what they would like. Lauren opted for the fish stew and Charlie for a pork dish. "I'm getting a big portion of chips as well," he informed Lauren, "seeing as they provide our British comfort foods too, but I'm happy to share."

"Alright then," she said with a nod. "I'd never get through a whole bowl, but I'm sure I could manage a few."

"Dips to start?" he asked.

"As well as chips? How very decadent," she teased, a bit surprised at his appetite. But then, she supposed, he had been walking all day.

Charlie grinned again. "I'm hungry!"

"Go right ahead," Lauren told him, waving her hand with a laugh and becoming aware of how quickly they had moved from being two strangers sharing a sofa to two friends sharing a meal. "I won't eat a lot, but their vegetable dips are amazing, so I'd recommend the platter. And they'll wrap up whatever you can't eat," she continued. "I always end up taking half back to the fridge in my room."

"Righty-ho," he said, catching Andrei's eye and then impressing Lauren no end when the young man came over by ordering in Romanian. "Would you like more wine?" he asked her, after Andrei had repeated the order back to Charlie, and Lauren nodded.

"But please make sure my share is being charged to my room."

Charlie nodded, spoke to Andrei again, and then turned to Lauren as the barman left them.

"I ordered a bottle of what you were drinking," he said, in case she hadn't understood the conversation. "I'll be too full for all the dips and chips if I keep drinking pints, so I thought I'd join you. The wine's on me … least I can do in thanks for the seat and the company, though I did what you asked and he's charging the food to each of us separately."

"Alright … thank you," Lauren said. It was a curious situation, this. Here she was, sharing a meal with a nice man in a remote little resort filled with couples. It wasn't a date, but already she liked Charlie and wouldn't be averse to getting to know him a bit better. Especially in the physical sense, she thought, admiring his body as he drained his beer while trying to ensure that he didn't notice her doing so. And she was enjoying talking to him, which was always an added bonus, although Lauren wasn't the slightest bit interested in a relationship that involved commitment. But, she thought to herself, a man who was working in the mountains and who spent days wandering around with a tiny backpack probably wasn't looking for anything serious either. She changed her position on the sofa, not wanting the leg that was underneath her to go numb from being sat on. "OK then, Charlie Weasley," she said, leaning forward a bit, "will you tell me about the wildlife in the forest and mountains?"


	3. Secrets, tears and an invitation

Lauren and Charlie each enjoyed that meal more than any other than they could remember for a while. The food was simple and nourishing, the wine was refreshing, the view was amazing and they fell into an easy conversation as the sun moved closer to the horizon.

At first, Charlie was worried about whether he would be able to answer Lauren's question. He couldn't tell her about the dragons that he studied and cared for, but within a few minutes he had her enraptured with his tales of moles and hamsters, which she was used to seeing in England, and bears, wolves and bison, which she wasn't. He didn't mention that he was more likely to encounter the latter when the dragons in his care made a meal of them. Even if he had been able to tell her that, and even if she had believed him, his mother had pointed out several times over the past few years that it wasn't appropriate dinner table conversation.

So Charlie told Lauren about wall lizards and sand lizards, carefully explaining how to tell the difference, and she smiled to see how animated he became during that conversation.

"Do you love reptiles best?" she asked him. She would have been amazed if he had said no.

"Am I that easy to read?" he chuckled, reaching for another chip. "Yes, I do. Though," his grin widened, "I try not to let the other animals know that … doesn't seem fair to have a favourite!"

Lauren laughed, putting her bowl down and dabbing her lips with her napkin before carefully folding it up and putting it onto the low table as well. "You're very thoughtful, Charlie."

"Hmmmm," he said, not sure how to respond to that compliment. "I have lots of time to think," he said, finally. A bit embarrassed to have the attention turned on him for so long, he decided it was time to switch topics of conversation. "So tell me, Dr Bennett," he grinned, "what brings you to the mountains?"

He couldn't read the expression that crossed her face at his question. "It's not the happiest of stories, though I'm OK now."

Charlie frowned. Was this lovely woman hurting? He hadn't picked that up from her behaviour and conversation. He felt a pang at the thought that she might have been hurt by a man, and was surprised to find himself feeling the urge to deck the bloke. Must be because she was little, he decided. He'd always had an urge to protect small women. At five foot ten, Charlie was the shortest of all the men in his family, though he was stronger than most of his brothers to make up for it.

"Of course," he replied softly. And not just because it would have made him sound like a dick to say anything else. He liked this woman and, more than that, he was intrigued by her.

"I've had a difficult few years," she told him, after taking another sip of her wine and giving him a smile when he took the bottle out of the ice bucket and offered her a refill. "I don't really want to talk about the details, but I lost both my parents rather suddenly, in an accident, and that was quite life-changing, as you can probably imagine."

Charlie swallowed. Even though he didn't see them often these days, it horrified him to think of how his life would change if anything happened to Molly and Arthur. Even aside from the loss of their physical presence, it made his insides twist to even contemplate how he would feel if he didn't have The Burrow to return to. That was, although he only realised it years later, the first step in his realisation of how dependent he actually was on the strong roots of his family home. He loved to travel, but he also loved to be home for Christmas and midsummer and his parents' parties as well as the odd Sunday dinner. He was aware that his siblings joked about how he couldn't wait to get away, and yet it was the very security of home that allowed him to wander. He always felt safe on the road, knowing that The Burrow and its occupants would always be there to welcome him each time he returned.

"Oh love," he said to Lauren, "I'm so sorry." He put the wine bottle back into the bucket, turning his full attention on her.

She nodded, her gaze upward in the hope of preventing unwanted tears from forming. "I don't want to dwell on it, but the rest won't make sense if you don't know that."

Charlie reached out and took her hand, unable to not offer her some comfort even though he didn't feel he yet knew her well enough to do what he really wanted to and pull her onto his lap and into a full-blown Weasley cuddle. His family were very tactile and their response to any kind of distress was to throw their arms around anyone in need, both literally and metaphorically. But Charlie wasn't sure how Lauren would take that after they had only known each other for an hour or two, so he instead linked his fingers with hers and cradled her hand in both of his."

Lauren moved her gaze to him, a teasing look in her eye. "You know you're more likely to make a person cry if you're nice to them?"

Charlie shrugged. He realised that she was trying to banter her way out of the emotion but his gift with animals allowed him to read body language in a way that most men couldn't. As a result, he could tell that Lauren was trying to cover up her pain. "I'm not afraid of a woman's tears, love. My mum lost her twin brothers when I was small, and she was always telling me to not be afraid of crying."

"It is a good way of releasing stress," Lauren whispered. "And you always feel better afterwards." She allowed a few to fall down her face and then squeezed Charlie's hand in thanks before removing it so that she could delve into her handbag for a hanky.

Charlie looked at Lauren. It had suddenly hit him that there were depths to this woman that he didn't see in most of those who he spent time with. The women in his life fell into two main categories. First, there were family and school friends, with whom he had the same sort of relationship as he did with the men in his life: friendly, chatty and open. He could chat with his sister Ginny for hours, and he had recently spent some time at his old school, when they had needed the use of some of his dragons. That had brought him into contact with his brother Ron's young friend Hermione, who was just a year older than Ginny. Hermione was very bright. She was also full of interesting ideas and questions, and Charlie loved to talk with her. In his book, it was easy to chat to Ginny, Hermione or Fleur, the young woman who his eldest brother had just begun dating, because there was no worrying about attraction of any kind.

But then there were the women who Charlie met in bars and ended up in bed with. They weren't lacking in number, though they varied in the degree to which he could talk to them. Some wanted more than Charlie felt he could offer and others, like him, were only looking for fun. But, he was realising, the bars he went to attracted a certain kind of woman and he couldn't remember the last time he had met a women who he could talk to as if she were a friend and yet who he still, given half a chance, would gladly take to his bed.

"Well," Lauren was saying, "I have done a lot of crying, of course, and I tried to let my grief come up when it needed to, but my sister found she really benefited from travelling. And my job means I get three months off in the summer for research, so I negotiated a sabbatical and I decided to come here to get away from everything. Have a proper break." She indicated the grey book thing again.

Charlie was nodding, but he didn't want to interrupt. He had finished eating too, and he sat back, listening attentively.

"I brought a load of books and music and some sewing … I love sewing," she explained, a bit shyly, as if he might make fun of that. He didn't, so she continued, "and here I am. I deliberately chose somewhere remote," she explained. "I get up and swim every morning and I write and read and, well, I do my thing quietly and it's bloody lovely. I can go to the local village now and again, for a change of scene, but the main thing is that I take time out from the real world. Recalibrate, I suppose."

Unlike Charlie, Lauren wasn't surprised to find herself explaining her situation to the man who was sharing her sofa. She was open and extraverted; she loved to talk to people about their stories and she didn't balk at sharing her own when someone asked. What did surprise her was how he managed to listen so well and then make observations and ask questions that helped her to process even more deeply.

"It sounds like just what you need," he said. "It must be a huge adjustment. Is it helping?"

"It is," she smiled. "It really is. Which is great, because I'm staying here for the next few weeks!" Lauren laughed. Then she stopped. A question had just occurred to her and, as was often the case, she let it out, unfiltered.

"So where are you sleeping?" she asked. "If you're not staying here, I mean … are you camping?"

Charlie nodded his head towards the trees. "I'll pitch my tent in the woods when I leave here." He continued quickly when he saw Lauren's concerned face. "It's easy; it just pops up, don't worry. I can do it with my eyes closed, so the dark isn't a problem."

A confused look crossed Lauren's face, and her eyes moved to Charlie's backpack. Which was in no way large enough to hold a tent, as far as she could see.

"I left it outside," he said quickly, feeling a jolt in his tummy from lying to her but knowing he had no other option but to do so. "Didn't think Andrei would take kindly to me bringing all my gear onto his terrace…" Well that bit was true enough. If Charlie reached in and removed everything that he had stowed in his small, charmed rucksack that was charmed in the same way as the suitcase used by his hero, Newt Scamander, he would probably fill a room.

"Oh," she said. "So do you come in here to use the showers and stuff?"

"Oh, Gods no," he said, without thinking. But Lauren didn't seem to notice the slip. "I don't think the staff would like that. No," he said with a shrug, "I have to make do when I'm in the woods." Making do in the wizarding world wasn't a terrible thing; cleaning spells didn't feel anywhere near as good as a bath or shower, but they sufficed. Lauren didn't know that though, and was imagining that he was having to use baby wipes or similar.

"Gosh," she said, feeling rather sorry for him. He must be desperate for a proper wash after being out for three days. For two or three seconds she considered, and then - again - she just said what she was thinking anyway. "Well I've got a lovely shower in my room as well as my hot tub. You're welcome to use it before you go if you'd like to clean up properly."

"Really?" Charlie asked, a bit astonished. This was Weasley-level hospitality, and he had learned over the years that Weasley-level hospitality wasn't that common outside of The Burrow.

"Of course," she said. "I think we've established that you're a nice man who isn't going to run off with my towels or anything. I'll even let you use my new organic shampoo and leave-in conditioner," she teased, leaning in as if to share a great secret. "I'm so happy I packed big bottles; the hotel stuff smells of chemicals!"

Charlie continued to look so excited at the idea of a shower that Lauren appraised the table and then made another decision. "Look," she said, taking charge, "let's go now". They had demolished almost all of the food and there wasn't much left to bother with. She began to scoop her stuff into her bag and popped her hat back on her head. "You bring the wine bucket and I'll carry the glasses. We can finish it on my balcony when you're done."


	4. On the balcony

When Charlie strolled out of the shower with one of Lauren's white hotel towels wrapped around his waist, it was the final confirmation the young woman needed that, if he showed even the least bit of interest, she wasn't going to be able to stop herself from offering him the hospitality of her bed and her body as well as her bathroom. He was fit, tanned and toned, and she gasped when she saw the dragons inked on his shoulder and side. She had never been attracted to men with tattoos but, she decided, she was willing to make an exception in Charlie's case.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I was so excited about the shower I forgot to take clean clothes in with me." With a smile, he picked his backpack up off the floor and turned back towards the bathroom.

"Wait, Charlie," Lauren said, and he turned. Briefly, he wondered if she was going to follow him, but she stepped towards him and touched his hair. Charlie took a deep breath. Was she making a move? Women didn't usually come on to him by rubbing bits of his hair between their fingers, but he was open to a new approach.

"Did you try the conditioner?" she asked him, and he nodded.

"You said I could try anything…"

"And I meant it," Lauren reassured him. "But when it says 'leave in', it only means for a few minutes, and then you need to rinse it out again…"

"Oh…" He was a bit embarrassed.

"Easy mistake to make," she said, smiling as he turned back towards the bathroom. As she heard him turn the shower on again, she tried not to imagine him naked under the running water, or to think about what might happen if she followed him in. Lauren pushed that thought down with a shake of her blonde curls and took the half-finished wine and glasses back out onto the balcony, settling herself in one of the two sun loungers that faced the forest.

Back in the bathroom, Charlie had rinsed out the conditioner and was applying laundry charms to a set of clothes, sending a wave of gratitude to his mother, who had ensured that all her children were competent in household magic from an early age. After making a different shirt and a pair of shorts look as if they had been washed and ironed, he put them on and then tidied the bathroom – another habit ingrained in him and his six siblings by Molly Weasley – before stepping out to re-join Lauren.

"That was lovely, thank you," he said, as soon as he arrived on the balcony. "I actually can't tell you how good that feels."

"No problem," Lauren said. "I've travelled a bit, so I know what it's like. There have been plenty of times someone's offered me a shower or a meal when I've been in need, so I'm happy to return the favour whenever I can."

Charlie sat down on the edge of the second sun lounger and picked up his glass, which Lauren had refilled. He took a sip, looking at her over the rim of the glass.

"What?" she asked him.

"You're a very interesting woman, Lauren Bennett."

"Why thank you … I think. Was that a compliment?"

"Oh fuck, yes," he said, taking a sip of his wine before putting the glass down. "Absolutely. Interesting is very good."

Lauren nodded, unusually lost for words. "OK," she said. She wondered again whether to just reach for him and see how he responded, but suddenly realised that she hadn't asked whether he was married or partnered. Internally, she groaned. She should have thought of that earlier.

"So," she asked. "Now you've shared my hair products, I reckon I can ask a more personal question … is there a special someone waiting for you to get home at the end of your camping trip?"

Charlie smiled and shook his head, hoping that the question was evidence of Lauren being as interested in spending the night with him as he was in spending the night with her. "No, there isn't. I'm … well…" he waved his hand to indicate the forest, "it's a bit hard to meet women here and, even if I did, I don't imagine many would want to live in the mountains." He lifted his glass and took another sip. "And to be honest, I'm at a point in my career where I don't really have time for anything serious."

"Oh, are you studying?" Lauren asked.

Charlie nodded. "I'm studying to become a Master in my field." There. He had used the term and she could make of it what she would. To Charlie's surprise, she nodded, looking impressed.

"That's great," she said, seeming excited for him. "I skipped a Masters … went straight to PhD because I knew what I wanted to research, but I imagine working with animals that you'd want the more practical side of it rather than research anyway."

"Exactly." Charlie was taken aback, but he found he very much liked the fact that Lauren appeared impressed.

"So have you got a research topic yet, or does it work differently in your field … I don't know if you're in the British university system here?" she asked.

"Hmmm, no, and there are some differences," Charlie hedged. He didn't imagine that they did weather magic in the British university system, which was one of his interests, but he couldn't exactly say that. Or explain that he loved transfiguration and wanted to improve his skills in that on the side. "I'm still figuring it out, really. I only just started it recently, so ask me in six months," he grinned, "and I might be able to give you a better answer."

"Fair enough," she replied, nodding. "I think lots of people feel that way in their first year. It's good to take your time. Not that one can never change direction, but your thesis can be a big key to getting you where you want to go."

"And where do you want to go?" Charlie asked her, hoping to divert the attention from himself again.

Lauren contemplated the question for a moment. "I'm not sure," she said. "I've got funding to set up a new project over the next couple of years. It's not exactly what I want to do in the long term, but it'll be a good stepping stone. It'll take up all my time though, so I can relate to what you're saying about that. Relationships, I mean. Plenty of time for those when I've got the other stuff figured out."

There. She had reminded him that she, too, was single.

In response, Charlie put his wine glass down again. "Nice to play, now and again, though," he said. There. She could laugh that off if she wanted, or come down that path with him if she chose.

"Oh yes," she said, looking him in the eyes and feeling her heartbeat increase at the knowledge that the game was on. "Playing is good."

"I've got the better view over here, love," Charlie said, nodding at the sun, which was setting behind Lauren. "Feel free to come over and we can share this one…" He patted his sun lounger, in case his words weren't quite clear enough.

"Alright," she whispered, getting up from her own sun lounger and taking two steps towards Charlie's. Rather than moving across to let her sit beside him, though, he shifted himself towards the head of the lounger, swinging his left leg over the side and bending the right one up, making space for Lauren to sit between his legs. She did, and Charlie put his arm around her waist, pulling her body against his and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"This is nice," he said, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of the setting sun, and she murmured in agreement. She felt the lovely prickling sensation that always happened when the energy shifted into a sexual tension this quickly, and put her hand on Charlie's leg. The red hairs were soft, and she stroked him gently.

"It is," she said, turning to look directly into his blue eyes and putting her hand on his chest. "But, if I'm honest, I prefer this view."

Charlie smiled. He slid both of his hands around either side of Lauren's face, cupping her cheeks as he gently kissed her lips. Lauren moaned, moving her own hands; one in his hair and one on his side, and tilted her face to deepen the kiss. For several minutes, they didn't speak, and all that could be heard were the evening birds, the soft slurping noises of their kissing and the moans that they released into each other's mouths.

Soon, they began to explore more of each other's bodies with their hands. Lauren slid both of hers up inside Charlie's shirt, making him groan as she thumbed his nipples before exploring his back with her fingertips. She could feel a few scars here and there, and she gently stroked their outlines before moving her fingers to new places, wanting to cover as much of him with her touch as possible. In return, Charlie stroked her back and then began to run his fingers gently up and down her sides.

Suddenly, Lauren threw her head back, giggling uncontrollably, and pleading with Charlie to stop. He froze, unsure of what had just happened.

"I'm so ticklish," she told him, still laughing. She had caught his hands in hers, holding them to her sides.

"What, here?" he asked, feigning innocence while taking the opportunity to tickle her a bit more.

She squealed as she twisted her body, trying to get away from the sensation. "Yes, stop Charlie."

Charlie held his hands in the air, grinning. He knew better than to carry on, even in jest, when a woman told him to stop. Arthur Weasley had drummed that into all six of his sons. "I've stopped, love."

Lauren was panting. She leaned forward, kissing him full on the mouth, sliding her tongue inside to caress his for a moment, and then pulling back again with a more chaste kiss to his lower lip. "I need a wee," she said. "Sorry. I promise I'll be right back and," she trailed her fingers down his chest and teased them into the top of his shorts, watching the bulge grow beneath her eyes, "we can get back to where we left off…"

Charlie held his hands on her hips to help steady her as she stood. He watched her as she wandered into her room, shaking his head and not quite believing his good fortune. He had had a bugger of an afternoon, and his idea of a compensatory treat was a beer before he retired, alone, to his tent. Not in a million years would he have thought that his evening would include wine and a nice meal in the company of a clever, pretty, funny woman who would end up sitting in his lap while she snogged and groped him. He had had far worse days, that was for sure.

Lauren fished into the bathroom cupboard for her diaphragm, delighted that she had popped it into her washbag despite not being able to imagine any circumstances in which she would have use for it in Romania. She had known the hotel would be full of couples, and the chance of meeting a single man who she would want to spend the night with in this remote place was next to nil. But there he was; a gorgeous, redheaded male; hard, willing and on her balcony. She made quick work of getting herself ready and wandered back out to Charlie.

"Are you happy out here, or would you rather come inside, Charlie?"

"I'm happy anywhere you want me, love; you're the boss…"

A short while later, Lauren had Charlie Weasley exactly where she wanted him. Naked, on his back, on her bed, between her thighs, with his hands on her arse. His smiling mouth was open and panting in ecstasy and joy as she buried his thick cock deep inside her and slid up and down on it, breasts bouncing towards his gorgeous face.

Charlie couldn't have been more delighted with this arrangement. He loved it when a woman took the lead, and he had the perfect view of Lauren's face and breasts. As she approached her orgasm, he moved his hands to her hips and bent his legs slightly so that he could thrust into her more deeply, making her whine and call out his name as his orgasm followed quickly on the heels of her own. Lauren sighed as she finished, tipping her head down for a moment and then back up, to look into his blue eyes. "You good?" she asked, and he raised his eyebrows.

He blew out through half-closed lips as if he was a horse, making Lauren laugh at the noise. "I'm great," he said, smiling and then gently tipping Lauren onto her side, their legs tangling together as he rolled her onto the cool sheet and pulled another over them, wanting to ensure she wouldn't get cold.

"Sorry … haven't got laid for a few weeks … couldn't make it last longer," she panted.

Charlie laughed. "Isn't that usually the man's line?"

Lauren raised her eyebrows. "You're lucky I'm so well fucked, Charlie. Otherwise you'd be getting one of my lectures on challenging gender norms."

"If I'm good, love," he pressed his face into her curls, "can I have it later? I'd really like to hear it."

Charlie didn't get his lecture that night. He got fucked twice more, though. The first time was in the bed, after a break to share out the last of the wine into the glasses that Lauren sent him to collect from the balcony so that she could watch him walking around naked. She made no bones about that being her goal, either. After they had finished drinking it, Charlie took the empty bottle, gently pushed Lauren onto her back and dripped the last few drops of the cold liquid onto her pussy before diving down with his tongue to chase them. She squealed and then moaned deeply, coming under his tongue before he slid up her and thrust into her for a second time which lasted much longer than their first.

They fell asleep after that, not even having the energy to shut the balcony door, but enjoying the breeze that blew over their hot bodies. Lauren became aware of Charlie's hardness pressing into her again at about three in the morning and she pushed back against him with a soft moan, turning slightly onto her tummy and lifting her right leg so he had easier access. He made her wet by gently stroking her with his fingers and knuckles and then pushed himself into her from behind. They enjoyed a long, slow fuck in which her orgasm came from the continued attentions of Charlie's fingers rather than his cock, but she wasn't complaining. He was a considerate and generous lover and, when he dropped a kiss onto her shoulder afterwards, murmuring a thank you before saying goodnight, her final two thoughts before dropping into the best sleep she had had for ages were, first, that he would probably slip out before she awoke and, second, that inviting him to sit on her sofa was the best thing she had done all week. She didn't regret a moment of their one-night stand.


	5. The morning after

Lauren opened her eyes slowly, enjoying the unique fragrance of the Romanian forest that was wafting in through the open balcony door. She didn't think she would ever forget that smell, which she had already fallen in love with. Inhaling deeply and stretching her arms, she took in the empty wine bottle and glass on the nightstand and the tangled sheets that were the remaining evidence of her night of passion with Charlie Weasley. She sighed, knowing that he would be long gone, back into the woods and on with his own adventures, but relishing the sensation between her legs that reminded how of how much she had enjoyed the few hours she had spent with the blue-eyed, redheaded animal lover.

"I made you tea, love … do you take sugar?"

She almost jumped out of her skin as the man himself came into view; freshly showered and just as sexy as she remembered. It hadn't been the wine, then.

"You're still here."

"Is that a statement or a question?" he smiled.

"I'm not sure really … I didn't expect you to still be here." Lauren struggled to sit up, tied in by the way the sheets had caught around her legs after their final fuck in the early hours of the morning.

"Here, wait, love," Charlie chuckled, putting the mug of tea down on the dresser before moving towards her and untangling the bedding by giving it a hefty pull.

"Thanks," she grinned.

"So … thought I'd run off without saying goodbye, did you?"

Lauren looked a bit sheepish. "Maybe," she raised her eyebrows in a teasing smile.

"Well," Charlie said, with a sly look and a pretend pout. "I was promised a lecture on challenging gender norms from an expert, so I thought I'd better stay, but … well, perhaps you're not as expert at challenging them as you think you are."

Lauren's laugh was loud and appreciative. "You're fab, Charlie Weasley. Now give me my tea, please, and then I can think straight. I don't need sugar, thank you."

He picked up both mugs, plonked himself on the edge of the bed and held hers patiently until she had sat up and was ready to take it from him. "Is it OK if I join you for breakfast, love? It says in your room instructions that they still have an all you can eat breakfast buffet!"

Lauren tried not to show her surprise a second time. "They do, and that would be great," she said. "I'd love some company."

"They won't be weird about me staying the night, will they? I don't want you to get charged more for the room?" Charlie wasn't sure how muggle hotel rooms worked; whether you paid by the room or the person. "I can pay my share if they do?"

"No, it's OK," Lauren reassured him with a smile. "They charge per room and then we pay for the food on top, so there's no added charge if you have a friend over, don't worry." That was kind of him, she thought.

"I'm not going to be all clingy," he promised, with a grin of his own. "I just love bacon. My brother's friend Hermione says it must be genetic because my whole family are the same." He congratulated himself internally on his use of what he knew was a muggle word and was almost bouncing with excitement at the thought of bacon, which made quite an appealing combination. Lauren smiled to herself as she looked at her watch. It was seven am. It would appear that she had pulled a morning person.

"Charlie, you're welcome to keep me company anytime," she said. "It'll be lovely to have someone to chat to. But they don't even start serving breakfast for another half hour and I want a shower first. Can you contain your bacon cravings til then?"

He nodded, and went to sit on the balcony to drink his tea. When Lauren emerged in her underwear, scrunching her curls with her fingers and in search of a clean dress, he poked his head around the door and said, "come here, love … you need to see this…"

Pulling a dress over her head, Lauren padded out, barefoot, and followed his pointing finger with her eyes. There, in the forest, were a small herd of deer. "Oh wow," she said. She hadn't seen them this close before. Absentmindedly, Charlie put his arm around her waist and hugged her to his side.

"You ready to eat yet? I'm really hungry. Some gorgeous woman kept me up half the night, fucking me senseless…"

Lauren laughed. She had truly never met a man like Charlie Weasley although, to be fair, Charlie Weasley had never met a woman like Lauren Bennett either.

"I'm ready. Just my sandals and bag now, two ticks. We'll be first in the queue, you know … most people don't get up til nearer nine."

He was halfway to the door before she had even turned round. "All the better to get the pick of the bacon then. And a seat near the window…"

Sure enough, they were first in the restaurant and, if the staff were surprised to see their favourite guest with a guest of her own, they didn't mention it. At least not in English. Unlike many of the guests, Lauren was polite, undemanding, always grateful and she spoke a smattering of Romanian words, seeking to add a new one to her vocabulary each day. She focused on being able to say hello, please, thank you, to ask for the bill and complement meals that she enjoyed. Unlike Andrei, the breakfast staff hadn't met Charlie before, but they were pleased to see that Lauren had been joined by a friend. It wasn't usual to see people here by themselves, especially bright, smiling young people like Lauren. Two of the servers chatted together in their native tongue while Charlie and Lauren gathered food from the hot plates. Charlie listened to them speculating as to whether he was Lauren's boyfriend or not and, when one remarked on how very good looking he was, Charlie couldn't help himself.

"Mulțumesc mult!" he said to them, adding a wink to his thank you. They blushed and apologised, and Charlie told them – in Romanian – not to worry, adding a complement about the bacon. Once he and Lauren had sat themselves at a table by the window and placed their order for tea, he laughingly explained what had happened.

"So we're going to be the gossip now?" she asked. Not that she cared; she was just curious.

"No," he assured her. "They like you very much and they're happy you have a friend."

Lauren sighed. "It's so interesting how people think that being single or having a holiday alone is such a terrible thing."

Charlie nodded, mouth too full of bacon to answer right away.

"I mean," she continued, resting her food-laden fork back on her plate so she could speak, displaying a degree of self-control that Charlie knew he couldn't have attained, "this is genuinely one of the best things I've ever done for myself, I think. I'm not sorry at all." She popped her scrambled egg into her mouth and chewed it before continuing. "Not that it isn't lovely to have someone to chat to," she said. "I don't have much in common with many of the other guests, and they tend to come in twos, as you may have noticed."

Charlie had. "Well," he said. "You can say no, but I wondered whether it might be OK if I joined you again for dinner, this evening? I have no expectations of a shower or any … hospitality," he said, choosing his words carefully and making Lauren laugh. "But I'll be in the area all day before going back to my base tomorrow and I would have come here to eat anyway and, well, I'd rather like to claim my free lecture over more wine, if you're up for it?"

"I'm up for that, Charlie," Lauren said, her smile friendly and reassuring. "And you're very welcome to the shower again, and anything beyond that we can negotiate." She raised her eyebrows suggestively, leaving him with a sensation in his tummy that remained the whole day, even after he had paid his bill and bid her farewell, shouldering his backpack and heading off back into the trees.

Lauren went back to her room for an hour after breakfast and read a few chapters of a novel on a sun lounger before going back out and diving into the pool. She didn't know whether it was true that you should wait an hour after eating and before swimming, but it's what her mum had always said when she was a little girl, and Lauren still followed the rule even as an adult. She swam for forty minutes and then divided the rest of the day between sewing, more reading and a walk around the gardens. She decided to forgo lunch, but went back to her room for a siesta at about two. She hadn't realised it this morning, but her night-time activities with Charlie had curtailed her sleep, and she was tired.

Laying on her bed on her back with the balcony doors open, Lauren felt the tears begin to flow down her cheeks and onto the newly made bed. This still happened, though far less frequently now than when she had first heard of her parents' deaths. But she had learned to accept the grief; allowing it to flow through her and following the instincts of her body. Lauren cried for her lost parents, for her lack of family and for the fact that she felt like a tiny sailboat on a tossing sea. Her only tether now was her career, and she reminded herself that she needed to put all of her focus into it. She would be working with some interesting people on her new project and perhaps, she hoped, some of them would become friends, if not a new family.

She smiled when she thought of Charlie, and his possible return this evening. She couldn't trust that as a definite thing, for she didn't want the disappointment that she would surely feel if he wasn't able to return to the resort, or perhaps got a better offer, but she liked the redheaded man and he had been good company. Lauren was glad that he, too, wasn't looking for anything more than fun. Even if she could afford a relationship, career-wise – which she couldn't – she certainly couldn't manage anything long distance and it wasn't fair to even pretend that she could give herself to someone else when she still had so much of her own shit to sort out.

Lauren drifted off, and then woke with a start, realising that she had slept for nearly an hour. She put the kettle on to make tea and, as had become her afternoon ritual, went to the balcony and turned on the taps in the spa bath. It took a while to fill, and that gave her time to pad around and tidy up. Taking her tea out with her, she took a small brown bottle from the outside windowsill – for the existence of the wooden balcony roof meant she could leave her bath oils outside, ready for use – and dripped a few drops into the hot water.

She groaned in pleasure as she shimmied out of her knickers, discarded her dress and stepped into the bath. Tilting her neck from side to side to stretch her muscles, Lauren scooched further into the tub and sank down under the water with another soft moan. She smiled as she wondered whether she should invite Charlie to share the tub with her that evening, and then drifted off into a daydream, remembering how they had kissed on the sun lounger just a few hours before. Although Lauren had taken a good few lovers over the last couple of years – it was a good way of forgetting, apart from anything else – Charlie was definitely one of the best. And she enjoyed him on an intellectual level, too. Lauren was aware that that was a rare thing, and she would make the most of it this evening.

Towelling herself dry, Lauren applied some deodorant and a small spray of perfume and then smiled as she gently admonished herself for anticipating a date that wasn't actually a date. Deciding that she needed a bit of a reality check, she picked up her e-reader and packed her sewing bag with the makings of a small quilt patch, taking them both down to the terrace area where she had told Charlie that she tended to park herself from about four in the afternoon.

"Not just because I then get the best sofa," she had laughed, "but it's actually lovely in the afternoon, to read. "While everyone else is getting dressed up to the nines before they come for drinks and dinner, I'm already enjoying the view, but with added peace and quiet."

Charlie hadn't told her what time he would be arriving, so she was surprised to see him get there at about five. He looked cleaner than he had done the previous day, but within minutes she had offered him her room key card and the use of her shower.

"I'll keep the sofa free if you'd like to wash before dinner," she said.

"You are a star, love," he replied, taking the key card gently from her hand as he kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be really quick. I don't want to miss my lecture."


	6. Charlie's lecture

Not even twenty minutes had passed before a clean and freshly-dressed Charlie appeared back on Lauren's favourite purple sofa, holding newly procured menus under his arm and asking if it was too early for wine.

"It is for me," she smiled, "but don't let me stop you."

"No," he shook his head. "I'll wait for you. Lemonade for now?"

"Alright then…" He jumped up and went to find Andrei, who was back with two tall glasses of the fizzy drink almost before Charlie had sat down again. Lauren marvelled at how much energy he had, especially given that he had probably been walking all day again.

"Good day?" Lauren asked.

"Great day," Charlie said, and she picked up an excited undercurrent in his voice. "Found what I was looking for, and I'm all set to head back to base tomorrow."

In truth, he could have apparated home already and, if Lauren didn't want him to spend the night in her room, Charlie would say goodnight and then walk far enough away to magically transport himself back to his own cabin at the reserve, ready for a proper breakfast in the canteen the next morning. He had finished covering the area that he needed to, perhaps energised by his activities with Lauren, fortified by the bacon, or both, and had found two previously undiscovered dragon's nests. Having logged their exact locations and set himself appropriate apparition points from which he wouldn't be seen by muggles, Charlie was excited to have two new projects, for it would be his job to pop and check on them regularly. He had done quite a good job of convincing himself that his excitement was totally about the baby dragons that he was hoping to play midwife to, and nothing to do with the fact that his monitoring of the nests would bring him within reach of Lauren two or three times a week for the remainder of the summer. He was already pondering how to tell her this and broach the possibility of meeting again without seeming to be offering more of a commitment than he felt ready for.

Lauren smiled at his exuberance. She assumed that he was happy to have completed his job and be heading back to civilisation. "And what was it you were looking for?" she asked.

"Oh …. you know," he waved his arms about, again stuck between not wanting to lie but not being able to tell the truth, "lizard nests that we didn't know about; especially the rarer species."

"Is that your speciality?" Lauren asked, interested in his work.

"Yes, but it's not as interesting as what you do," Charlie fibbed, knowing full well that dragon keeping would likely make the top ten on most people's list of occupations they'd like to know more about. But he was genuinely keen to know more about Lauren and her work. "You said you would tell me about cultural … I'm so sorry, I've forgotten what you do already, even though you only told me yesterday, but I hadn't heard the words before and I'd really like to know about it…"

Lauren smiled. "Not many people have heard of what I do, don't worry. I'm a cultural anthropologist." She laughed as she saw Charlie's mouth silently forming the words in the hope that it would help him remember. "The word 'anthro' or 'anthropo' means people, and of course 'ology' is from the Greek 'logos', or knowledge, so anthropology means the study of humans. And my branch of it is cultural anthropology, so I study people and cultures." She paused, and Charlie nodded; he was with her so far. And, she noted, checking the size of the pupils that were easy to see in his blue eyes, he was definitely engaged in what she was saying.

"But," she continued, "my kind of culture isn't quite what most people mean when they use that term. When I say 'culture', I don't mean different countries or regions, I mean different groups within society. I'm interested in what the norms and rules are in different groups of people, or organisations. So…" she paused and looked at him, checking again that he was following. "I might look at the norms and language of, say, how young men talk to each other when they are playing football, and what that can tell us about their culture and values."

She paused again, and Charlie continued to nod. He had been the Gryffindor seeker for several years and he knew exactly what she meant. There were shorthand ways of speaking and acting during a quidditch game that were unique to that setting. And, he thought with a slight rush of embarrassment, things that the young wizards would say to each other in the changing room that wouldn't be said in the Gryffindor common room. He sometimes felt slightly uncomfortable when friends pulled him into such conversations, but he could relate to what she meant.

"That makes sense," he said. "I'm just thinking about how that works in my field." If only he could tell her, there were also ways of speaking and behaving that were unique amongst dragon keepers, and she would probably be very interested in them. Like quidditch players, they shortened certain words and phrases to save time and energy, especially in tense or potentially dangerous situations. And, he realised with a sudden rush of awareness, there were a few similarities between the language of quidditch and dragon keeping. Charlie wondered whether that was because the best dragon keepers, like him, were those who excelled on a broom. He desperately wanted to tell this to Lauren, because he knew it would lead to an interesting chat from which he might learn something, but he knew he couldn't. Charlie felt a little pang of sadness at the thought that he wouldn't ever be able to share and debate this part of his life with her. This, he thought, may be one reason why some of the wizarding community had a policy of not engaging in any kind of relationship with muggles. But Charlie had always felt that that was a shame, as there was so much that the two communities could learn from each other, if they were only allowed to interact more.

"For sure," Lauren said. "Every group – or culture – develops specific jargon and language and ways of behaving that don't necessarily make sense outside of that group, or that might seem odd to outsiders. When we observe and analyse those things, we can sometimes find out interesting things that can make us see things in a new way. It's all about what we can learn, and what we can do with that knowledge."

"This is blowing my mind," said Charlie, "but in a good way. Can I have some other examples?"

"Of course," Lauren said. "When I was an undergraduate, one study I worked on was about the way a particular group of doctors talked to their patients. There was a discrepancy between how they felt about what they were doing and how their patients evaluated the care they gave. So we observed the interactions and one thing we found was that, even though they said they wanted patients to be involved in decision-making, their conversations didn't reflect that."

"No?" Charlie asked, still fascinated.

"No," she replied. "The doctors were actually very good at steering the conversation in the direction that they wanted it to go. Probably because they were pressed for time. The interesting bit was that they thought they were being open but they were actually using certain phrases and body language to close down conversations that patients wanted to have but that would have been complicated. Our findings helped them to rethink their approach." She sipped her lemonade. "That happens a lot, across the board. Many of us don't think about what we say or write or what it's actually conveying. But all language and behaviour conveys the values of the person or group who is expressing it."

Lauren leaned towards the table and put her glass down, while Charlie waited for her to continue. She smiled as she looked at his expectant face, and carried on. "One of the best examples of that can be seen in the way that women are socialised as children to behave in ways that are different from men."

"They are?" He wished he could think of cleverer things to say, but he was transfixed by what Lauren was telling him. She had a beautiful mouth, too. He loved watching her lips move and realised that he could listen to her speak for hours. He liked listening to her moaning as well, and seeing the shape her mouth made when he was thrusting into her, but he was trying to suppress that thought.

"They are. Very much," Lauren nodded. "And it's important for our development as a society, I think, that we understand it. I'm really interested in helping people understand that we all follow the norms and rules that have been taught to us, by parents or teachers or others in our field or social group, and that sometimes it's good to question those rules; to think about whether they really serve us, or whether we might be able to lead better lives if we opted to follow new norms. Because otherwise we're just behaving like sheep and accepting the norms of the generations that came before us. Does that make sense?"

"Totally." Charlie was mesmerised. "I am loving this lecture and I still want to know more, please." He reached for his own lemonade and another quick look at his eyes told Lauren that he was being sincere.

"OK," she said. "Well, I mentioned gender norms before..."

"Like assuming that a man will leave before daybreak because he's a man?" Charlie teased.

Had the sun not been shining, Lauren's smile and the laugh that followed it would have lit up the entire terrace. She leaned forward, unintentionally giving Charlie a better view of her cleavage which he tried not to enjoy too much. "I'm sorry about that one, Charlie and I promise you, if you want to stay tonight, I won't even let the thought of you making a midnight dash cross my mind. You've reformed me and, if you decide to spend another night with me in my king-size bed, I will go to sleep certain in the knowledge that, come morning, I will again have the pleasure of watching you eat more bacon than I ever realised would fit inside one person."

He laughed loudly, feeling his cock begin to stiffen at the combined sight of her large breasts along with the clear invitation to her bed for the night, not to mention breakfast in the morning. Gods, was there any need in him that this woman couldn't fulfil? Oh yes; his heart sank as he again remembered that she wasn't a witch, so he could never be completely honest with her about who he was, what he did or how different his life really was from hers. Even if he did want something serious with a woman, he couldn't ever have it with this woman. Swallowing, he pushed that thought aside, wanting to focus on enjoying the time he did have with her.

"I rather enjoy having my own assumptions challenged," she was telling him. "You see, this just shows how we all learn them growing up and, most of the time, we don't even think about where our beliefs come from and whether they're ones we really want to have."

For some reason that Charlie couldn't put his finger on, his twin brothers popped into his mind. He wished that Fred and George could meet someone like Lauren; they would probably love to hear this, as wizards who constantly challenged the norms and rules.

"We call it gender socialisation," Lauren continued, "and it's not a conscious thing, but it turns out that people subconsciously teach little boys and little girls different things about what's normal for them. It's complete bullshit, but it happens everywhere. In the west, adults tend to tell little girls how pretty they are and talk about the way they look, but with little boys, they're more likely to tell them they're big and strong and clever. Just watch people introduce each other on TV. Women are described as 'gorgeous' or 'beautiful', and men are 'witty' or 'funny' or 'clever'."

"Fuck." That hadn't occurred to Charlie but now that she had mentioned it, it made complete sense. How could he not have noticed it before?

"The problem with that one," she said, "is that little girls grow up thinking it's their job to look good and please others, while little boys are encouraged to think about what they want in life and to go for it. It's a load of crap, but it's embedded throughout western culture."

"Gods," he said, again forgetting to mind his expressions around Lauren.

"Are you Pagan, Charlie?" she asked, smiling as she reached for her lemonade, drinking the rest of it through her straw. She had been thirstier than she had realised.

Charlie didn't know how to respond to that question. "I don't know if that's the right word for us, but my family are very into the seasons and that sort of thing," he answered, hoping that was enough for Lauren, and was relieved to see her smiling. Good, he thought; perhaps he had got away with it.

"That's wonderful. I just want to say one more thing before we order some wine, if that's OK with you?"

Charlie nodded. "Of course, love," he said.

"I don't like playing guessing games when it comes to sex and stuff like that," Lauren leaned forward again, as if it were a confession. "I know some people do, and I respect that. Some people like the teasing stuff, but I just like to be straight with people."

"Like you were with me just now?"

Lauren looked him straight in the eye and nodded. "I didn't want you to spend the evening wondering whether I'm going to be open to a repeat of last night," she said, leaning towards him again. "I'm very open to another night with you before you head back to your base, Charlie. It was great. I'm not looking for anything long term, but I'm very attracted to you, and I think you are to me…"

"Fuck yes," he whispered, his hand itching to touch her, and she smiled as she continued with barely a pause.

"And what's the point of pretending otherwise?" She shrugged. "I don't see where the fun is in that. And no hard feelings if you don't want that, of course … I'm just saying…"

Charlie leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. "I want that," he murmured, caressing her face in his hand and speaking quietly in her ear so there was no chance of being overheard. "I like a bit of teasing, to make you wet for my tongue and cock later, but I really want to fuck you again and I love that you're not making me wonder all evening. Thank you." His mouth got closer to her ear. "It's actually very sexy…" He kissed her neck, trailed his tongue upwards and nibbled her earlobe very gently before pulling back a few inches. "Time for that wine yet?" he asked, knowing exactly the reaction he had created in her body.

"Fuck yes," she breathed, echoing his words.


	7. Wine, dips and a proposition

They barely made it through the first glass of wine before Charlie's hand moved to Lauren's leg, sneaking under her dress and up her thigh. Their choice of sofa – the same one on which they had met; facing the mountains – meant that their lower halves couldn't be seen by the other guests, but the tipping back of Lauren's head and the accompanying moan would have been a giveaway as to what was happening if anyone had happened to be looking.

His eyes looked into hers; they were twinkling with fun and desire, and he leaned forward so he could speak quietly and still be heard. "Do you want to eat soon, love, or go to your room and come back for dinner later?"

Lauren took a few moments to think about that. "Both," she said, with a laugh, "but I didn't have any lunch and I'm actually quite hungry. That's why I didn't want to start drinking too early," she indicated her wine glass. Then she leaned forward. "So it depends on what your goal is. If you want something hard and fast and soon and you don't mind me falling asleep an hour later because I got pissed too early, then let's go. If you want me to last all evening, best let me eat something before I get too sozzled…"

"I'll get Andrei." Charlie looked around, wanting to catch the barman's eye and letting him know that they would like to order. He turned to Lauren, who was eyeing him as if he was a menu item himself. "What do you fancy?"

"Another ride on your cock," she said quietly, making him groan this time. "OK", she laughed, raising her palms, "I'll stay focused! But I have an idea. What if we get one of the platters but have it sent to my room? It'll be quick and…"

"You're a bloody genius, love," he said, standing up from his end of their purple sofa. Shouldering his rucksack and picking up the wine bucket, he made eye contact with Lauren to ensure that she could manage both of their glasses as well as her bag and then strode towards Andrei. Charlie made quick work of ordering while Lauren started towards her room and he caught up with her on the secluded stone pathway that led to her section of the hotel. "All done," he said. "Mixed platter, arriving in ten, thanks to Andrei."

Lauren turned, unexpectedly, and Charlie almost bumped into her. "You're gorgeous," she told him, ensuring that the wine glasses in her hands were upright before tipping her face up to kiss him.

Charlie was delighted to lean down and press his lips to hers. "One thing though," she told him, between kisses. "If we have a third unplanned meeting, I want a hello snog, please. None of this making me wait for kisses crap…"

He pulled her close to his body with his free arm, laughing softly. "Want me to put this down and kiss you more thoroughly here, Ms impatient?"

Lauren smiled into his lips. "That's Dr impatient to you," she teased, "and no … but, fuck, I wish I could control myself more around you; at least long enough to get to my room…"

"Boring as it is to be the voice of reason," Charlie said, his words belied by the fact that he was still trying to reach up Lauren's dress, causing her to laugh. She was unable to stop him because of the glasses that she was still holding. "Whoever's bringing our food is going to be coming this way soon," he grinned, "so unless you have exhibitionist fantasies…"

Somehow, they managed to separate long enough to get to Lauren's room and put the wine and glasses down before Lauren pulled Charlie on top of her on her bed, kissing the side of his neck until he had untangled himself from the strap of his rucksack and turned his face to kiss her properly. It felt like only seconds before there was a knock at the door and their food arrived. Thanking the young woman who had delivered it, Charlie put it on the table and then turned to Lauren.

"Alright, boss, you're the hungry one … what's your pleasure? Food or sex?"

Lauren smiled and raised herself to a sitting position. She began to take her dress off, toeing her sandals off her feel at the same time. "Both, like I said," she told him, pointing to the bed. "You, naked, there, please," and Charlie felt himself get harder.

"On my back?" he asked, watching her take off her bra, and she nodded.

"On your back. You're going to be my starter."

Charlie watched Lauren removing her knickers and quickly followed suit, discarding his clothes and then laying on his back, on her bed, just as she had asked. She turned to the platter and put several things onto a plate. When she turned back towards Charlie, his breath caught at the look she gave him. Walking towards the bed, naked and unselfconscious, Lauren then leaned forward and began to place tiny bits of food on his body.

"Oh fuck," Charlie said, feeling himself get even harder than before.

"Just a little starter," said Lauren, "and then we'll have a main course together."

She began to suck and lick the food from his body, swirling her tongue to eat the dips that she had spread on his nipples with her finger and then applying long kisses as she took each mouthful from his flat stomach and jutting hips. His cock leapt in anticipation and, finally, she reached it, carefully sucking up a couple of olives that she had placed in his belly button and then taking him into her mouth. She rolled the olives around the tip of his cock with her mouth and tongue, causing Charlie to squeak at the unusual but unexpectedly titillating sensation. For a few moments, Lauren continued, watching his face to ensure he was enjoying it, and then she removed her mouth, chewed the olives and slid higher up his body.

"Can't wait," she said, sinking down on him as she had done the previous night.

Charlie was delighted to let Lauren take over again; he loved having her on top of him and he found it so erotic to know that she was moving her body just the way she needed to for her own pleasure. She found her rhythm and they locked eyes as they moved together, nothing in their heads except the image of each other. After a few minutes, Lauren dipped her head, which Charlie took as a sign that she was close to her orgasm, and he began to speak softly. "Go on, love … that's it … use my cock to make your pussy feel good … Gods, you're gorgeous, Lauren … oh … oh, fuck love," and, a bit unexpectedly, he felt himself near the brink as well.

"Come with me," she breathed, kissing his open mouth, and Charlie obeyed, both of them becoming monosyllabic and grabbing for the other's hips with their hands.

"Fuck," Charlie breathed, as they lay panting together, her head on his shoulder. He reached his hand into her curls, stroking her head. "You're so good at that."

"Why thank you, kind sir," she said, slipping off him. Charlie stopped her motion for a few seconds, in order to give her a quick kiss on the lips, and then let her go on her way. "Loo," she explained, "and then you really need to try those olives … they're divine." She winked at him, her soft, full bottom bobbing as she walked away from him, looking over her shoulder with a cheeky grin.

Charlie groaned and then sat up. He spotted some tissues on the bedside and, rather than risk pulling his wand from his rucksack to clean himself quickly, he used them to give himself a quick wipe. Then, he gathered the platter, glasses and wine and took the whole lot outside, to Lauren's large balcony, where they had first kissed.

Upon exiting the bathroom, Lauren had pulled on her discarded knickers and dress, and was slightly surprised to see that Charlie was sitting on one of the sunbeds, stark naked. He had arranged the platter on a table and refilled their wine glasses.

"You're so domesticated, Charlie," Lauren teased, as she sat on the sunbed next to him. "I like it!"

"Ha," he replied. "You should meet my mum! She had Bill and I trained in basic household stuff before we were eleven! Said that even though she liked being a homemaker, the women we met in the future might not want that."

"She sounds wonderful. Is Bill your brother?"

Charlie nodded. "One of them. He's the eldest. Then me; I'm next." He leaned forward to gather some food onto his plate. "Mum said we wouldn't be allowed to go to school unless we could look after ourselves, and we were both really keen to go, so..." He trailed off, realising that he didn't want to give too much away, and using the need to eat as a reason to smile and pop a piece of bread layered with meat and cheese into his mouth and chew rather than say more. He picked up his wine glass and held it towards Lauren. "Cheers, love," he whispered. "Thanks for the lovely company," he smiled.

That night, by unspoken agreement, Charlie and Lauren focused on becoming more familiar with each others' bodies and turn-ons. They were well-matched; both enjoyed taking the lead at times, and both were happy to take a turn laying back and letting the other take charge. They ate, drank and made love in courses, taking breaks to watch the sun set and the stars rise. At one point, Charlie threw some clothes on and ran back to the bar for another bottle of wine, and Lauren found herself sitting alone on her balcony, gazing at the night sky and wondering at how quickly she had formed a friendship with this lovely man who had turned up on her sofa just a day or so ago.

A tap on the door got her attention. It had closed behind him and he didn't have a room key, of course. Putting her glass down, Lauren moved to let him in, and he grinned to see her.

"Andrei's such a cheeky bugger," he informed her.

"Oh?"

"He told me he would let the breakfast staff know to put extra bacon on in the morning!" he laughed, and Lauren joined in, following him to the balcony.

"And do you mind that?" she asked, as he put the fresh bottle of wine on the table.

"No," he said, reaching for her waist and turning her towards him. "But it made me think."

"Oh?" she said again, unsure about where the conversation was going.

"How long did you say you were staying here?" Charlie asked.

Lauren took a deep breath. "Until the beginning of September, so another eight weeks or so…"

"Hmmmm, well I have a proposition for you..."

"Mmmmmm?" Lauren's tone was non-committal, because Lauren was a bit worried. She had been clear with Charlie about not wanting more, but she knew that her uber-friendly approach sometimes gave the wrong impression about her intentions. She rather hoped that hadn't happened here.

"Don't look so worried, love," he reassured her with a kiss to her cheek before opening the new wine and topping up her glass. "I didn't get a chance to tell you when I arrived, but it turns out that my findings this week mean I'm going to be coming this way about three times a week over the summer, to check on things … catalogue the area, so to speak, and … well it was you who brought up not playing games, and I just wanted to ask … well as neither of us want anything serious, then … well I just wondered if you'd like me to pop in when I'm over or whether this was enough and I should let you get on with your holiday or … oh fuck, love, for someone who's not asking you for a commitment I'm doing a fucking awful job of asking if you'd like a non-committed summer fling, but…"

"Yes, Charlie," Lauren said with a smile, realising his intention with a flush of relief. "A non-committed summer fling sounds bloody marvellous, actually. No strings?"

"No strings," he confirmed.

"No drama when it's time for me to go?"

"Not from me, sweets; I've got my studies, just like you."

She nodded her head, slowly and then leaned down, picking up both of the refilled wine glasses and handing one to Charlie. "Alright then, gorgeous, here's to our non-committed summer fling. Cheers…"


	8. Charlie's Bad Day

As a hot-blooded Weasley male, Charlie would be lying if he didn't admit that his favourite memories of his time with Lauren involved the sex that they had. But for the rest of his life, he would think of her every time he smelled or tasted coconut. That was the scent of the hair conditioner that she used, and which she allowed him to use every time he showered in her hotel room, reassuring him that she could pick up more when she went on her weekly outing to the local village in the rickety hotel shuttle bus. In truth, the local stuff wasn't nearly as nice as the ones she had brought from home, but Lauren so delighted in the degree to which Charlie enjoyed secretly using her hair products that she didn't care.

Charlie also had very fond memories of their conversations, which often continued late into the night. After his first lecture, he became an avid and eager student, and he spent the summer in informal, self-directed study with a personal lecturer who increased his knowledge in several areas that he would never have learned about in wizarding education. They talked about anthropology, culture and gender, but he also loved hearing about muggle history. Lauren didn't know a lot about that, but it didn't take much to know more than Charlie did. He loved it most when he got her to talk about her own subject though, and why she was passionate about encouraging her students to challenge their worldview. She frequently shared her distaste for following norms, although she was always quick to point out that she didn't feel the need to resist everything for the sake of resisting.

"It's more about thinking," she would tell him, and he would nod. "I don't mind what people think," she would say, "but I want them to think, and not just to accept the status quo as automatically being right…"

"I agree, draga mea," he would whisper, as he rewarded her with soft kisses.

"What does that mean then, gorgeous?" she had asked him one day. The day that often came into his memory when he thought about his time with Lauren. The day that was etched in his mind more vividly than any other. "You've used it a few times, and I keep meaning to ask."

"It's just a term of affection…" His fingers stroked her shoulders as he moved slowly around the side of the sofa, never losing contact, until he could sit himself beside her.

Lauren's fingers went to his left side, where she knew the Chinese fireball was drawn. "And are you affectionately describing me as more like the rather cross-looking dragon that you have here, or," her fingers moved to his right shoulder, the home of his baby Welsh green, "this friendlier-looking one?" Her eyes twinkled.

Charlie had smiled, although it was immediately clear to Lauren that this wasn't as wide a smile as he usually gave her. "Actually, the similarity of the word is coincidental; it has nothing to do with dragons, love. It's more like 'hello, love' in Romanian."

Lauren tipped her chin up in acknowledgement, her eyes dancing. "You clearly love dragons though," she observed. "Where does that come from?"

He had settled further into the sofa, hoiking one booted leg onto the knee of the other and looking up to the sky while he considered his answer. "They're the ultimate animal, aren't they? I mean, they would be, if they existed for real. Although," he leaned forward, "maybe they do, somewhere. Maybe," he swept his arm in an arc, indicating the mountains, "how do we know they're not out there now, in their caves, having developed techniques to hide themselves from non-believers?"

"Mmmmm hmmm?" Lauren was amused, and enjoying his flight of fantasy. Charlie nodded a thank you to Andrei and pointed to a beer on the menu with another half-smile and a nod to the young Romanian man rather than interrupt the conversation.

"Yeah," Charlie was continuing. "There's so much we don't know." He paused, realising that he needed to be careful not to go too far with this line of conversation. "Although," he leaned forward, conspiratorially, looking around as if he was checking to see that no-one could overhear him, "it may be because of Bryan."

"Bryan?" Lauren raised her eyebrows.

Charlie nodded. "When I was tiny, my uncles bought me a cuddly dragon called Bryan, and I slept with him for years. He was more like this dragon," he indicated his shoulder and the Welsh green, "than stroppy girl here," his finger went to his side. He then subconsciously took his bottom lip between his teeth as he smiled at Lauren in a way that enabled her, for the first time in their friendship, to see what Charlie might have looked like as a little boy. He would have been cute, she thought and, fleetingly, she wondered about his family life.

"Tell me more about your childhood?" she asked. Maybe that would help him open up and tell her if something was bothering him. She had a sense that something was, but wanted to give him the space to decide whether to tell her or not.

Charlie released his lip and looked at her, saved from answering immediately by the arrival of Andrei. He engaged the barman in a quick chat, more because he wanted to buy a little time to consider his answer. Not for the first time, Charlie was torn between desperately wanting to be honest with the very straightforward woman in front of him and knowing that he couldn't tell her the truth about his world, for both of their sakes. He remembered the words that his parents had taught them all when they were young.

"My family are a bit alternative," he said. "We were home educated until we were eleven, and then we went to a small independent boarding school, which we loved. We lived way out in the country and we didn't have a TV or anything, so even now people sometimes think I'm weird because I don't always understand references to popular culture. But we had trees and fields, animals and fresh air, and I loved it."

There. Arthur would have been proud of his recitation of the lines that had helped Charlie and his brothers and sister explain any strangeness that village muggle children detected or highlighted in their behaviour when they were out and about. They had other lines to add if they needed them, of course, but that little speech generally served to ensure that people made allowances for their lack of knowledge.

Lauren was nodding. "My parents were hippies," she smiled. "We didn't have a TV either. My sister and I thought we were horribly deprived, but I can see now that we benefited so much from the conversations we all had instead. I have one now, but only because I live alone, and I like it on for company sometimes. I'm very selective about what I watch."

Charlie took a sip of his beer, keen to keep the spotlight on Lauren. "And what was your favourite thing about growing up?"

She smiled, a little sadly.

"Oh Gods, sorry," he reached for her arm. "I didn't mean to … oh love, don't answer that…"

"It's OK Charlie," she reassured him. "It's been more than three years, and it's nice to be able to talk about them." She sipped her own drink. "They were always open to doing things spontaneously. They made time for us. And nothing was ever off the table for discussion. I loved that openness. If I ever have a family, I'd like to hope that I'll be the same way with my kids."

"That sounds nice," Charlie agreed. "I can't say that my mum was open to discussing everything," he mused, his nose wrinkling a bit at the thought, "but dad was, and there was never a shortage of love and hugs from either of them. And mum's cooking!" He shook his head in wonder, making Lauren laugh. "We weren't rich in money, in fact that was often a struggle, but we were – if it's not too clichéd – rich in other things." He smiled. "Every year, my mum would spend the whole Autumn knitting so we could all have a new jumper for Christmas."

"That's gorgeous," Lauren smiled. "But you went to boarding school?" She looked a bit confused. Boarding school was expensive, or perhaps Charlie and his siblings got scholarships. But that didn't quite ring true; although Charlie was very bright and witty, it was clear he wasn't academically-minded. He was so full of questions about things that she had learned as a teenager. Lauren felt it would be rude to ask about his seeming lack of knowledge in academic subjects, instead assuming that Charlie hadn't paid attention in school, despite being very bright, perhaps because he was so keen to work with animals in a more practical way. And she wasn't entirely wrong...

"Yes," said Charlie, panicking slightly and trying to remember the appropriate answer for that one, "but that was because of my dad's work. He works for the government, and I'm not really supposed to talk about it, and it meant that we got free places at the school and they just had to find the money for uniforms and, well, you know…"

And magic wands and spell books and cauldrons and potion ingredients, but best not say that out loud. Charlie groaned internally; this was a minefield.

Lauren nodded again, realising that their backgrounds had been a bit different in relation to money – her parents hadn't been rich, but they were comfortably off and had never lacked for anything – and feeling a bit concerned that she was making him uncomfortable. That wasn't at all the source of Charlie's discomfort, but he was nonetheless relieved when she suggested they decide what they would have for dinner.

As he perused the menu, Charlie wasn't thinking about food. His day had been bad enough, and now he was feeling a new emotion that he couldn't name. It was a relative of regret, he thought, and he knew it had to do with the how many differences there were between their worlds. He felt cross about the Statute of Secrecy, which was the reason he had to camp on his hiking trips rather than apparate, lest he be seen by muggle tourists. Charlie didn't know a lot about that, but he had learned from an early age that he was supposed to hide who he was when he was in the muggle world.

It felt unfair. It wasn't that he wanted more with Lauren, and they had both agreed that was off the table, but he was irked that the option wasn't even open to him. What if he met another muggle woman in the future?

Lauren watched his face carefully. It was clear to her that he was pondering something pretty deeply, but she didn't want to pry. She closed her menu. "Charlie," she said in a low voice. "Tell me what you'd like. Not just food, but in general. You don't seem yourself; what do you need?"

Charlie thought for a moment. "Can I have a cuddle?" he asked, in a quiet voice. "Not here," he said quickly. "In your room?"

Lauren stood, scooping things into her bag quickly before offering him her hand. "Let's go," she said, and Charlie took it, picked up his beer and followed her down the stone steps that led to her section. When they got to her room, she quickly let them in and lay on the bed, opening her arms and welcoming Charlie into them. He put his beer on the side and removed his boots before joining her on the bed, pillowing his head on her breast. Lauren wrapped him in a hug and began to stroke him.

"Thanks, love," he said, putting his arms around her and holding her close. "I had a shit day today."

They had lost one of the dragon eggs to a predator, but he couldn't tell her that. He didn't even want to make up a story about another kind of animal having died. It felt unfair to Lauren and disrespectful to the dragon. Never was he more grateful that Lauren was the kind of person who didn't feel the need to ask loads of questions. Instead, she just held him close and whispered into his ear.

"Don't forget I'm not afraid of tears, Charlie. And I'm no more afraid of yours than mine."

He nodded into her chest. "Thanks, love. Have I ever told you I love your breasts, by the way?"

"No, but thank you," she smiled, in spite of herself and his seemingly sad mood.

"I love all your curves." His hand reached to caress her stomach before moving to her hip and bottom. "I love that you're so cuddly. Don't ever diet," he ordered, in a tone that made her smile. "I speak on behalf of all men who love curvy women."

"I won't," she promised. "It doesn't work anyway."

He nodded, though he had no idea about that himself. He just knew that he felt cared for in her arms. It felt like being cuddled by his mum, though he decided it wise not to mention that, lest it gave Lauren the wrong idea. Nothing else in their relationship – if that was what it was; he wasn't really sure what else to call it – felt like the relationship he had with his mum. He just knew he felt safe when Lauren held him like this.

"Thank you for being my friend," he said, and Lauren's heart skipped a beat.

"You're welcome, gorgeous," she said. "It's lovely to be spending the summer with you."

Charlie nodded into her breast. "I lost a creature today," he said, "and I don't want to talk about it, really, but I just want to you know."

"I'm so sorry, Charlie," she said, wrapping her arms more tightly around him. "Did he or she have a name?"

Charlie shook his head into her breasts. "Not born yet," he muttered through clenched teeth, the tears finally beginning to flow.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry," Lauren said again, stroking his hair. Then, after a pause, in a whisper, "shall we think of a name, so that we can make a toast later?"

A long, still pause from Charlie. Had the egg survived, it would have been Charlie's privilege to name the hatchlings. He likely still would be naming its brothers and sisters when they hatched. "You can think of one. I think it was a boy."

Lauren considered her answer as she continued to stroke him. "How about Leonardo, seeing as we were talking about Da Vinci the other day?"

Yes, Charlie decided. That was a good name. And he liked that it wasn't one that he or any of the other dragon keepers would have come up with. "Alright," he said. And fifteen minutes later, after he had silently cried and they had cuddled and after Lauren had talked him through deciding what he would like to eat and drink and after it had been delivered to her room, they went out onto the balcony and toasted Leonardo.

Lauren never knew what kind of creature Leonardo was, or would have been, but she didn't need to ask. She knew loss, and she knew that questions weren't what was needed. Those who had lost often just needed someone to be with them in their pain. That night, she laid with Charlie in her arms. They made love without more than a handful of words and, when he spilled himself inside her, she held him tightly, whispering soft noises of reassurance and ensured that he remembered that he was still alive and that life was worth living.

Years later, although the rest of their summer was filled with laughter and conversation, food and wine, kissing, cuddling and sex, that was one of the nights that Charlie remembered the most fondly. When Lauren had held him to her breast and just allowed him to be, and to cry, and it didn't matter that he was a wizard and she was a muggle. It just mattered that, in that moment, they were in each other's arms.


	9. The non-committed summer fling

Years later, when Lauren recalled her summer fling with Charlie Weasley, it was usually because something would remind her of the patterns that they quickly fell into. Whenever he would appear on the terrace of an evening, Charlie would lean down and give her a hello snog and then look around for Andrei and the menus. After the first couple of weeks, Lauren was certain that he must have the entire menu memorised, but he still liked to peruse it fully, lest something new and delicious had been sneaked in which he might otherwise miss trying. Lauren never failed to smile when she remembered Charlie's spectacular appetite for food, life, conversation and sex. She delighted in the way that he would organise his breakfast food on his plate so that every forkful contained exactly the right mix of bacon, egg and sausage and, when they readied themselves for sleep at night, he would curl up the same way each time and then reach for her, wanting to maintain contact through the darkness. She loved the rhythms that his habits and presence added to her own holiday routine.

There was still plenty of uncertainty and spontaneity, though. Without the ability to communicate with each other in between their meetings, they often had to make tentative rather than definite plans, and Charlie's responsibilities at the reserve meant he couldn't always get away when he wanted to. But neither of them worried about that. Lauren was happily relaxing and enjoying the resort, and Charlie was delighted that he could turn up when work allowed it and not when it didn't. Lauren never pushed him to make commitments about when he might or might not head over to spend a night with her and, in return, Charlie took Lauren as he found her.

One day, about two weeks into their fling, he couldn't find her, though. He arrived a bit earlier than usual, so he wasn't completely surprised to see that she wasn't on the terrace. A quick walk around the gardens confirmed that she wasn't on one of her walks or in the pool, and a stop at the spa's reception allowed him to check that she wasn't enjoying a massage or pedicure. He had been delighted by her painted toes the week before, insisting on putting her feet in his lap so he could properly inspect them, although Lauren had been slightly embarrassed about the nail polish at first. She wasn't a 'girly' woman at all, she said, but had always wondered what a pedicure would feel like and, somewhat to her surprise, had found that she had absolutely loved laying back and having her feet soaked, filed and rubbed. Being able to choose from a range of bright colours in which her toenails could be painted had been the ultimate fun for Lauren, and she now sported purple toenails which contrasted with her lilac sandals.

But she wasn't having a pedicure today and Charlie's next thought after the spa was to go and knock softly on the door of her room, lest she was having a nap. When he did, he thought he heard something, but he couldn't make out what she was saying, so he waited for her to answer the door.

She didn't come.

Charlie had a strong sense that she was in the room and felt a small pit of worry in his stomach. He looked around, wondering if anyone would see if he used his wand to unlock the door. But he stopped himself; he would have no way of explaining that action to Lauren. Would one of the receptionists let him in? Turning around to consider whether there were any other options, Charlie realised that the stone walkway which led to Lauren's door also led through the gardens that were underneath her balcony. Perhaps, if the French doors that led outside were open, he could get her attention that way.

"Lauren?" he called softly, from underneath the wooden balcony. "Are you there?"

His heart beat faster as he heard her groan in response.

"I'm here, Charlie. I'm OK," she said, "but I can't answer the door, sorry. I'm in the tub, I've got awful period pain."

Charlie took five seconds to appraise the situation and make a decision. Testing the metal drainpipe, he immediately realised that it wouldn't hold his weight. So, with another check to ensure that he couldn't be seen, he took out his wand, cast a featherlight spell upon himself and then scaled the wall, remembering only at the last minute that, when he reached the top, he needed to move as if he still carried his normal mass.

"I'm coming up, love," he said, halfway up. "Don't worry."

He felt a surge of emotion when he saw her face. She was laying in the tub, looking tired and pained.

"What do you need?" he asked, his fingers reaching to stroke her brow and a look of concern on his face.

Lauren shook her head. "I've taken painkillers. Just need to ride it out. The hot water helps. If you could pop and get some alcohol later, that'd be great, but it's too early now…"

Charlie only knew two things about periods, and both of them he had learned from his friend Tonks, who was very open about this kind of thing. Lauren and Tonks would probably really like each other, he realised, but he put a stop to that train of thought given the more urgent nature of the matter in hand.

The first thing that Charlie knew was that a certain kind of magical pain potion that his mum made was really effective in this situation. Tonks had sent him to The Burrow on more than one occasion to beg a bottle from his mum. But Charlie knew he didn't have any in his rucksack. He frowned, trying to remember whether he had some at the reserve, and then his face relaxed as he remembered spotting some in his bathroom cupboard the previous week.

"Love," he said, deciding that Lauren was so unlikely to move from the tub in the next ten minutes that it was worth the risk. "I really need to use the loo, sorry, but I promise I'll be back in a few minutes and I'm going to hunt in my bag for a herbal remedy that my Mum makes. It won't interfere with your painkillers but it always helps my sister and her friends… I'm going to put the kettle on as well … make you a nice cup of tea. You'll get dehydrated if you stay in there without fluids."

When Lauren simply mumbled in response, Charlie filled the kettle and set it to heating. He hoped that the noise would mask any residual sound from his apparition, but he still cast three different silencing spells on Lauren's bathroom after locking the door and adding a magical ward as well. Holding his wand carefully, he returned his body weight to normal, apparated to his own bathroom on the reserve, found the potion and then ran into his kitchen. Spotting the tin that he was looking for, he grabbed it and apparated back into Lauren's bathroom. Charlie stayed silent for a moment, listening for any evidence of concern and, when he heard nothing, took down all the spells, put the potion and tin into his rucksack, flushed the loo and washed his hands. Last, he found Lauren's facecloth and ran it under the cold tap before wringing it out. He knew she had a bit of a thing about having a facecloth to wash with and, remembering Molly's habit of surprising him and Bill with wet facecloths when they came in from the garden when Muriel was visiting, wondered if it was perhaps something that reminded Lauren of her own mum.

Back in the main part of Lauren's room, he made her two cups of tea, cursing the inadequate size of the hotel crockery along with the fact that he couldn't risk an enlargement charm, and took everything outside. Lauren moaned softly when he gently wiped her face with the cold cloth before applying it to her forehead. He balanced both cups of tea on the widest lip of the bath, bade her open her mouth so he could drip the 'herbal' remedy under her tongue and then, when she pulled a face and complained that it tasted nasty, presented her with one of the pumpkin-juice flavoured biscuits from the tin that his Mum had sent through the floo that morning.

"Charlie Weasley," she whispered. "When did you get to be so good at taking care of people?"

"Oh," he wanted to say, "when I was trained in being a substitute mum for tiny baby dragonlets. You have to demonstrate that you can think about how they might feel and anticipate and meet all their physical, emotional and social needs before they know what they are themselves. Otherwise you can't work in the orphaned baby pens and I LOVE to work in the orphaned baby pens."

But he didn't, of course. Although a part of him was really tempted to say it, just to see how she would react. Knowing Lauren and how open-minded she was, not to mention her passion for discussing myths and different ways of looking at the world, he had half a mind that she would just take it in her stride and simply ask questions which would enable herself to understand before coming out with interesting and enlightening observations which would, as usual, spark a wonderful conversation lasting half the night. But, he reminded himself: the statute of fucking secrecy.

"It'll take about fifteen minutes to work," he said, standing up and removing his shirt and shorts. That got Lauren's attention.

"Oh Charlie," she said, as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the tub behind her, making some of the water slosh onto the balcony floor. "There's no way I can…"

"Hush," he said, looking affronted. "Do you really think that's who I am?" Lauren was already too warm to blush, but she mumbled an apology when Charlie shushed her again. "My friend Tonks says that the best and fastest remedy for period pain is an orgasm."

Before Lauren could protest, he gently pulled her onto his thighs, tenderly touching her belly with his fingertips and stroking in gentle spirals.

"But," he continued, "according to Tonks, a woman never feels like having an orgasm when she has period pain, so someone else needs to be in charge of making it happen. Lie back and close your eyes, love; let me make you feel good. No pressure to come and nothing's going inside you, I promise…"

Even though Lauren was doubtful that she could get within half a mile of an orgasm in her current state, let alone that it would help, she trusted Charlie enough to lie back in his arms and let him test out his friend's theory. Within about ten minutes, his gentle whispers and gentler touches had her writhing in his arms and making him suddenly hard when Lauren turned her head and opened her eyes wide to stare into his as she came with a series of soft whimpers. She was astonished to discover, as she floated in his arms in a post-orgasmic cuddle, that he had been right. Her pain had reduced considerably and she shifted to lay comfortably beside Charlie in the tub as she encouraged him to take his cock into his hand and stroke out his own pleasure while she told him about the things she'd like to do to him when she felt better again.

That was another abiding memory that Lauren always held of their time together. For the next thirty years, Lauren would remember Charlie and his friend Tonks' advice each time she used the same trick to ease her monthly pain. That first time, it worked well enough to get her out of the pool and onto a sunbed, where she rested naked on a towel and under a rainbow sarong with a book and an endless supply of tea through the afternoon until Charlie went to fetch them wine and dinner, through which he teased Lauren because, on this occasion, it was she who was craving bacon.

That night was the first night they simply cuddled rather than had sex and Charlie delighted Lauren by offering to wrestle her large mattress out of the balcony door and then re-making the bed so that they could sleep under the stars. He didn't tell her that, while she nipped to the bathroom, he had temporarily shrunk and lightened the mattress so he could levitate it through the door using his wand. Neither did he mention that the beautifully made bed was courtesy of a quick spell that his mum had taught him and Bill rather than the work of his own hands. He had the wand hidden again before she had even finished flushing the loo and he was eternally grateful for her habit of checking her appearance and moisturising her face after she had washed her hands. It gave him enough time to do the odd bit of magic when required and then stuff his disillusioned wand back in his rucksack before she came back.

As they lay on the bed that evening, trying to keep their voices down and not have the hotel staff realise that their expensive mattress and bedding had been relocated outside, they discussed ideas, myths and dreams. Lauren told Charlie about her fantasy of riding on a flying carpet and Charlie shared how it felt to be the second son who followed a big brother who he loved very much but who seemed to be better than Charlie at everything. Except quidditch, but Charlie couldn't mention that. In a whisper, he told Lauren how badly he wanted to make his parents proud of him, and she held him close as she reassured him that, one day, she just knew he would achieve that. Years later, Lauren would remember that night and, when she had trouble sleeping and played a game with herself where she decided which five days and nights of her life she would choose to re-live, that one was always high on her list.

Lauren's other favourite memory was their last night together. She was delighted when Charlie finally said he could made it over on a Thursday, as she had been suggesting, so that he could witness the cultural spectacle that was the hotel's Gala Night.

"It's hilarious," she had been telling him for weeks. "First, the staff parade around so we can applaud them, which is very sweet, especially when some of the kitchen and waiting staff hold cakes above their heads and the others swirl napkins in time with the music. The manager welcomes guests who have recently arrived, there's free wine, which is a bit rough but you don't notice after the first glass, and then they have a local band, who are so bad that it's funny. And then, after dinner, there's music and dancing. If you like that kind of thing. But it's worth it for the experience of the band alone."

Charlie had promised to try and make it sometime, although he was rostered on call each Thursday night through the entire summer so it had involved doing a deal with his friend Piotr. As Piotr had fallen in love with Molly's cakes, though, the deal wasn't hard to strike, and Charlie was happy to promise Piotr a half share of the next three home-baked gifts that came his way in order that he could finally join the festivities and also share Lauren's last night before she flew back to London on the Friday.

"I have to be pissed to dance," Lauren warned him. "I'm too much in my head and not enough in my body to be naturally good at that kind of thing, and I feel inhibited," she shrugged. "So if you want to dance then I need to drink a lot. But if not, we can just sit and watch."

"I'm not much of a dancer myself," he had said, "though I like the slow ones if I have a sexy woman to dance with. Do you need to be pissed for those?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"No," she replied. "Those I can do without fortification ... if the man's sexy enough…"

Many things made that night memorable for Lauren, and one of them was the sheer range of emotions that they experienced. From their sofa, which had been turned around in order to allow them to watch from behind most of the other guests, they enjoyed the entertainment while cuddled together and giggling. They got tipsy on the rough local wine, found it hard to keep their hands off each other and then eventually decided to throw caution to the wind and dance to an ABBA medley that the DJ played on the sound system as the evening was winding down. As the medley came to an end, the songs became slower and Charlie drew Lauren closer to his body. The lights dimmed, and they danced to the edge of the terrace so they could see the stars glittering above the outline of the mountains.

"I've had a great time tonight, draga mea," Charlie said. "Let's go to your room, love…"

When they got there, Charlie pulled the mattress and bedding out onto the balcony again – with some magical help thanks to Lauren's need to spend a few minutes in the bathroom – and readied their bed before undressing them both and pulling Lauren into the hot tub. Just a few minutes later, Charlie's arms were wrapped around Lauren, who was sitting in front of him. In the interests of trying to sober up a bit and not wake with raging hangovers from the dodgy wine, they each had two cups of tea balanced on the edge of the stone bath. Charlie had chatted up the housekeeping staff for extra cups a few weeks previously, explaining with an apologetic face that his Englishness required a larger portion of the hot brew than the standard cup size allowed.

Charlie's arms tightened around Lauren and he kissed her neck. "I've loved having all this cuddling and intimacy without the long-term commitment. That's what I miss when I –" he had been about to say 'do one-night stands' but he stopped himself, and Lauren smiled, bending her head to kiss his forearm, nuzzling her face on him as she felt the soft red hairs tickle her lips.

"When it's a one-nighter," she said, matter-of-factly. "I understand. I've had a lot of them too. And you're right … maybe we invented a new thing. A time-limited, no-strings relationship. All the joy of the intimacy, none of the ties that might hold us back from becoming who we want to be at the end of the summer."

Charlie kissed her neck, murmuring in agreement. "My problem is that, sometimes, people misinterpret my friendliness for a desire for more." He shrugged, and Lauren nodded. "I don't want to be cold and distant," Charlie continued, "just because I don't want anything permanent. And I'm naturally cuddly and tactile..."

"I know exactly what you mean." She sighed. "I've often thought there must be a middle ground between casual and forever, but I never seemed to be able to find it with anyone, even though I would have liked to..."

He smiled. "Being all in and no cuddling holds barred for the summer and then back to reality and our own lives now the nights are drawing in?"

"Yes." She took his hand and began to stroke circles into his palm with her finger. "Thank you for a lovely summer, Charlie."

"Thank you too, love." He paused. "In another lifetime, though..." The evening had been fun and soulful and romantic and he just needed to say it once before he sobered up and get it out of his system before she left. Just so she knew. That, if it was within his power; if they were a few years older; if they lived in the same world; if secrecy wasn't an issue; if he wasn't needing to give all his time to getting his mastery, well maybe things could be different.

"Yeah. Me too, Charlie..." Lauren turned to look into his blue eyes, biting her lip to try to contain the emotion that might spoil their last, perfect night. Sure, if she wasn't committed to a career-making research project in another country; if her career wasn't the rock that she needed in her recovery from losing her parents; if she wasn't so afraid of experiencing more loss and feeling her heart break again; if she could be confident that one of them wouldn't always regret leaving their passion, then maybe things could be different for her too. But those were the kind of maybes that sneaked into one's mind when one drank wine under the stars after slow dancing with a cheeky redheaded man who could almost make you come from his smile alone. "Let's not torture ourselves with maybes, lovely. You have a masters to get. We promised ourselves we'd keep it light so we can have fun and both achieve our dreams. And we still have tonight..."

Charlie nodded. He didn't know that anything else could be added to that so, instead, he tipped his head to one side and went in for a long snog. Which Lauren sighed into and returned, her hands cupping his cheeks and weaving into his red hair before she turned to straddle him. They started in the tub but then, finding it hard to keep hold of each other in the water, they drank the rest of their tea and then helped each other slide out and dry off before they crawled onto the mattress and continued there. As they found their rhythm, their laughter and moans were as enthusiastic as ever but, this time, they gazed into each other's eyes and both shed a few tears as they came.


	10. Saying goodbye

"My taxi's here," Lauren said, when they reached the reception area. "Time to get back to the real world and enjoy the last of the English summer sun back home," she smiled from under her floppy hat.

Charlie felt his stomach lurch with an emotion that he couldn't name, although he was vaguely aware that it had been creeping up on him for a while. As the end of August had drawn near and the darkness began to fall a few minutes earlier each night, the two had realised that their time together was coming to an end but, by mutual agreement, they had steered clear of discussing it. They skirted around the topic of saying goodbye, instead staying awake longer chatting and kissing into the early hours; encouraging each other to talk about their plans for the autumn. Lauren had told Charlie more about her research project, and he teased her about the list she had been making of all the things she wanted to do when she returned home.

"So you're here all through the winter as well?" Lauren had asked him in return. "They close the resort in October, don't they? You'll have to get a proper girlfriend if you want to get laid after that…" she teased him.

Charlie laughed and shook his head. "You show me the woman who wants to live in the mountains," he had said, "and I'll reconsider my single status. You know how isolated it is," he nuzzled her neck. "You can't wait to get back to the big city and the lights and the people…"

Lauren had laughed softly. "I like villages, not cities, Charlie Weasley," she said. "But I take your point. And I get it. I need to follow my own path for a few years as well; that's one reason I don't want anything serious right now." She had turned in his arms to look at the mountains. "If only real life was like Star Trek…" She broke off, remembering that Charlie had told her that his family hadn't had a TV and he therefore wouldn't have the first clue about the seemingly magical transporters that took people from one place to another in an instant. And, even if he did, it wouldn't have changed anything. Such modes of transportation didn't exist, at least not outside of books and films.

Their last night had been amazing and it had been one a.m. by the time they had finally fallen asleep in each other's arms. Perhaps because of that, the morning had flown by so quickly. When they awoke, Lauren had crawled on top of Charlie, holding his gaze as she rode him one last time before they moved Lauren's mattress back inside and went to eat breakfast. Charlie felt grateful that she had packed most of her things before the gala evening so that he wouldn't have to watch. On the way back from what Lauren teasingly described as his final baconfest, she paid her bill and then they returned to her room.

Once Lauren had opened every drawer and done a final sweep of the bathroom, she declared herself ready to leave the room that they had spent so much time in. As soon as she had zipped up her navy suitcase and put her straw bag down on the bedroom floor, all ready for the trip, Charlie had stepped forward, sliding his arms around her body for a goodbye cuddle. He began kissing her lips and then licked his way down her body, removing her knickers but leaving her dress on. He brought her to orgasm with his tongue and then stood, encouraging her onto her unmade bed and pushing his cock inside her one last time, making them both cry out.

"I'm sorry," she had said, panting with him in the afterglow. "That was wonderful, but I really have to go. Or I'll miss my flight…"

Charlie simply nodded. He knelt in front of Lauren and held her knickers so that she could step into them, pulling them gently up her legs and into place before giving her a smile and taking her hand for their final walk to the reception area.

Outside the hotel, Charlie let the taxi driver deal with her suitcase while he picked Lauren's hat off her head with one hand and then leaned down and kissed her very thoroughly, as if he wanted to ensure that she would remember the taste and feel of him all the way home.

Lauren took a small piece of card from her pocket and handed it to him. "Here," she said. "If you're ever back in England and over my way and fancy rescuing the local lizards over a beer, look me up."

Charlie looked at her. He seemed to be having difficulty knowing what to say. "I will, sweets," he nodded. He had a feeling that he should say more, but he didn't know what he could add.

"OK you, no weird goodbyes, no regrets," she said, giving him one last long, gentle kiss on the lips, her fingers gently stroking the soft red hair whose texture she didn't think she would ever forget. She moved her hand to cup his face. "Thank you for a lovely summer fling. You're a gorgeous, wonderful man, Charlie Weasley," she told him, with a happy smile, her fingers stroking the red stubble that was covering the lower half of his face. "And one day, when you've got your career sorted and your masters under your belt, you're going to make some lucky woman very, very happy."

And with that, Lauren Bennett was no longer in his arms. She gave Charlie a cheeky wave before she took her hat from him, replaced it on her head, turned around and walked out of his life.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

In the weeks that followed, Charlie was haunted by the thought of a hundred different things that he could have said; should have said. He kept Lauren's card with him at all times, not wanting to be parted from the one link he had to the woman who, he now realised, had taken his heart with her in that taxi.

But he could have carried the card to the moon and back and he would still have had no idea how to use it to find her. Charlie was a pureblooded wizard. He didn't know how to use muggle communications or what to do with the number that she had given him. Which was a bit of a moot point, for there wasn't a muggle telephone on the reserve even if he had known what to do. Charlie could lull a sick dragon into slumber, apparate himself around the mountains and – thanks to having so much time and so little comfort when he was camping – he could transfigure an entire living room's worth of soft furniture from leaves and twigs, but he didn't know how to find the woman he now knew he loved.

There was a certain irony in the fact that Charlie Weasley, the man who had never wanted to settle down, had given his heart to a woman who seemed to be his female counterpart in that respect, and Charlie wasn't unaware of that. He had absorbed enough of Lauren's philosophy to not fall into making the assumption that it was some kind of cosmic punishment for his previous actions and, indeed, he had never pretended to any woman that he was up for more than a bit of fun, but it engaged his mind through the long autumn nights that followed Lauren's departure. On one of those nights, tired and overwhelmed by the loss of a second baby dragon egg despite all his efforts, he sat on the edge of his bed and cried. Charlie's first tears were for the dragonlet, but they morphed into tears for Lauren and for himself; finally facing the pain of the possibility that he might never see her again; that he might never find another woman who made him feel the way he had felt when he was in her arms.

From the next morning onwards, Charlie walked an uneasy path between accepting fate and holding onto a spark of hope. He was constantly aware of the thought that, even though neither of them had made any promises, and they had both been clear that they weren't looking for anything permanent, they had loved each other wholeheartedly in the weeks that they had been together. If only he could find her again, he thought, maybe they would have a chance. Anytime he found himself unable to sleep at night in his cabin, he would lie there remembering their time together and imagining what he would say if they ever met again; clinging to the hope that, one day, that miracle might happen.

By the time December came, Charlie had saved enough leave to go home for a week and a half over Christmas and New Year, but festivities were overshadowed by the news that his father had been attacked by a basilisk. Within hours of arriving at The Burrow and establishing that Arthur was going to be alright, Charlie had contacted a muggle-born friend and arranged a meeting in a Hogsmeade pub. He didn't tell Ben the whole story, just that he was looking for a muggle woman who he had met while abroad. Ben took down all the details from Lauren's business card, noting with amusement that Charlie wouldn't even let him hold it so he could copy her work address and phone number, and promised to get back in touch with Charlie as soon as he could.

"It's not good news, mate, I'm sorry," he said, almost as soon as Charlie had put their butterbeers on the table in the same pub a couple of days later. "I called the number on her card, but they said she didn't work there anymore. Wouldn't say where she had gone. Apparently it's not policy to pass on personal details. I think there are people who'll look for muggles, if you pay them; I saw a film about that once, but I don't know that there's anything else I can do."

"Thanks, mate," Charlie sighed. He had hoped for better news.

That was a hard Christmas, with the only silver lining being that his mother assumed his unhappy mood was related to everybody's rising concerns about his father, the dark wizard Voldemort and the way that his siblings were being treated by a woman called Umbridge, who seemed to have installed herself at Hogwarts. All of this meant that Molly didn't quiz Charlie as much as she might otherwise have done.

After that, trouble continued to brew in the wizarding world and life at the reserve got busier still. Spring saw his eggs hatch and kept him busy helping care for seven babies and, once they were able to manage without him, he was enlisted as the leader of a new project involving the development of weather magic. Over the next couple of years, Charlie put all of his energy into his work, achieving the promotions that he had hoped for and gaining his mastery. War became a growing possibility, then a certainty, then a reality. But in all of that time, Charlie didn't forget Lauren, and his thoughts would still often turn to her in the dark of the night, when he would remember how her soft, warm body had felt against his, and replay some of their conversations in his mind. His dreams of her were so vivid, so real, that sometimes he would wake and be surprised that she was not there. That was a special kind of grief that he wouldn't wish upon anyone.

And it never abated. Throughout the war, he would wonder what she was doing; what was happening in her world; whether she had any idea of the turmoil in his. He hoped not. He knew that muggles were in danger, though, and he fervently hoped she was safe. When that thought crossed his mind, he would place his hand on his heart and send her thoughts of peace and kindness, hoping that she was safe and warm and that somehow his magic would find a way to let her know that he was thinking of her.

It was something of a blessing that other events called for Charlie's attention during that time, although too many of the events were too tragic to really be described in that vein. One of his brothers was injured, losing an ear to a dark spell, and every month seemed to bring more news of a threat, kidnapping or worse – the deaths of old friends, colleagues and teachers. Charlie was doing everything he could from Romania; he was working hard at recruiting for The Order in Europe as well as doing his day job. For several months, he couldn't even get home for Sunday dinner and when he did make it home to serve as his elder brother's best man, the chaos of the wedding reception overshadowed the affairs of Charlie Weasley's heart.

Charlie put his energies into fighting with and for his family in the wizarding war. He became good at pretending to others that he was still playing the field, although the truth was that he had no interest in that anymore. He had been out with women twice since Lauren left. Both times were because Piotr had persuaded him, and both times ended in embarrassment for Charlie, who just wasn't interested in being with anyone else. Only his brother Bill seemed to know that something deeper was going on, as everyone else was so preoccupied with the war. But Charlie half-mentioned something once, in the pub, and then Bill could get nothing else out of him.

And then, all of a sudden, the war was over and, after celebrating the win, mourning the dead and beginning the work of rebuilding their world, it was time for Charlie to return to Romania. He was still feeling like the luckiest man in the world because, although his beloved school friend Tonks and her husband were amongst those who had been killed, his entire family had survived.

At the end of his first week back at the reserve, Charlie made a decision on a whim. For the first time since Lauren's departure, nearly three years before, he apparated himself into the mountains to the secluded spot where he used to pitch his tent and then walked to the terrace bar at the spa hotel, half pleased and half dismayed that the sofa they had sat on was still in the same place; purple, welcoming and empty.

Charlie greeted the barman – not Andrei, who he supposed must have moved on – and settled himself down in what had been their favourite spot with a beer. He slung his arm along the back of the sofa and closed his eyes, wishing that he could turn back the clock and open them again to find that Lauren was there with him, snuggled under his arm with her bare toes tucked underneath her and her silly hat and magical reading book on the table. His stomach lurched at the thought, even after all this time. But perhaps, he thought, losing the only woman he had ever loved was the price he had had to pay for having his family. Realistically, Charlie knew that the relationship probably couldn't have worked; he was a wizard, she was a muggle, and he knew he wasn't supposed to tell her about his world. But that didn't stop his heart wishing that things might have turned out differently.

That evening, on their purple sofa, Charlie found himself having an imaginary conversation with Lauren. In it, she had reminded him of her own losses and of the importance of living life to the full. Wiping a few tears that had unaccountably fallen from his eyes when he thought of this, Charlie resolved to spend more time with his own family. Pining for Lauren, especially after all this time, just wasn't fair on everyone else he loved. He whispered a few words of love and hope to her, sending them out on the breeze towards the mountains. Then, striding back to his self-chosen apparition point, he decided to speak to his boss the next day and begin to negotiate to reduce his workload so he could take some of the leave that he had accrued after throwing himself into his work for so long.

As a result, just a few weeks later he went back to The Burrow for the midsummer weekend. It was promising to be a nice, quiet weekend until his brother Percy flooed in while they were eating breakfast on the Saturday morning with some unexpected news about a threatened marriage law which might seriously affect his youngest brother's friend Hermione. Having got to know the young witch better over the past couple of years and having huge admiration for her, Charlie didn't hesitate to offer Hermione his hand in marriage in the same way he offered his help to any other person or creature who needed it. He found himself wondering for several seconds what his life might be like with another clever woman who loved books and ideas, even if she wasn't the love of his life. But Hermione turned him down, revealing her own love for another of his brothers, which set in motion the fastest wedding in wizarding history.

Later that same afternoon, after Charlie had helped his brother George to stock and sort the bar ready for Fred and Hermione's wedding the next day, he spotted Hermione sitting alone in the garden on a quilt. Charlie grabbed a butterbeer and headed over to her. It had occurred to him that the greatest wedding gift he could give the woman who his family had adopted as another sister would be to pass on the knowledge and wisdom that Lauren had taught him. That seemed, to Charlie, a wonderful way of keeping what he and Lauren had shared alive, even if they weren't destined to find each other and be together in this lifetime.

"Hello love," he called to Hermione as he neared the younger witch. "Can I summon you a drink?"

Hermione smiled at him. "I'm OK thanks, Charlie. I've drunk enough of your mum's tea to sink a ship, and it's still a bit early for me to hit the hard stuff."

Charlie laughed, remembering another clever woman who had always made a clear distinction between when it was time for tea and when it was time for wine. Smiling wistfully, he tipped his butterbeer towards Hermione. "Fair enough, well cheers, love. I've come to give you the sex talk." He swigged from his bottle, readying himself to pass on the love that he and Lauren had shared in whatever form he could.

But that's another story…

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OoOoOoOoOoOoO

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This story continues in Fremione and the Weasleys, which is a long, low-angst, happy family saga which happens after the war and in which Fred lives.


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